Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue
by Avian Swallow
Summary: Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.
1. Law's Beginning: The Spy On Krocylea

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** I don't usually give long notes at the beginning of my stories, however, I felt like this one needed a bit of an introduction.

One of the things I absolutely love about One Piece (aside from the great plot and characters) is the fact that the majority of the secondary characters, while having fixed personalities, are left with just enough back story to develop a limited understanding of their history while remaining ambiguous enough that people like me can theorize endlessly about what their actual back story might be.

The following story is derived from several of my theories about Trafalgar Law and his crew. If you haven't already guessed there will be some OCs. Unfortunately, it is almost impossible to write a story about a pirate crew when we know the names of only the captain and four of its members, without creating a few OCs for them to interact with (especially when that crew has at _least_ nine members). I have done my best to give them distinct personalities and to use the physical descriptions of the crew members we have actually seen (eg. Ban, the man with the mustache, and the guy with the bow tie), and hope that the readers will forgive me for making up personalities. That being said I try to always keep things within the context of the canon, (to the point that after I read about Cora-san I completely revise the first few chapters) so if anyone finds anything that directly contradicts the canon please, please, please let me know so that I can fix it.

One more thing: This story starts well before Law even enters the Grand Line, before he even meets the majority of those who call him captain. It is meant to catalog his journey from his very first crew member until just before they cross Reverse Mt.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 **Law's Beginning: The Spy On Krocylea**

Far to the north on an average sized island in the sea known as North Blue, a chilling wind pulled a few orange leaves off a rather large oak and sent them swirling through the early morning air in a long spiral, until they eventually scuttled across the ground past a set of black boots belonging to a sailor. Eventually, the leaves settled to the ground among others of varying shades of yellow, brown and red, but the boots, and the sailor who wore them, continued to move up the long path with a soft crunch of gravel and drying foliage. The trail wound around a rather large hill until it crossed the top where it overlooked the town and docks below. It then continued on until it joined a winding road that lead to the gate of a rather large compound that rose in the distance. The boots stopped at the crest of the rise and the sailor turned to take in the view of the settlement below.

It was a rather large sprawling town, built in a grid-style layout with a small town square in the center for public gatherings and festivals, and a wide road that led from there to the docks. This road gave the public an easy view of any vessels that might put in without their having to run the risk of being in the way of any ships' men as they went about their work. A scuffed black toe tapped out the wearer's frustration as a gloved hand shoved itself into the pocket of a long, charcoal gray, wool coat, the other tightening its grip on the strings of a large brown rucksack holding what seemed to be the man's every possession, the hilt of a Nadochi sticking out from the top. The black spotted, white furred winter hat turned with the head as shadowed eyes scanned the view eventually settling on the docks, and one small plain ship that was leaving port.

"And so we begin," the strong voice of a man in his early twenties whispered, as the hand was removed from the pocket and a finger lifted to scratch a dark goatee. "Oh, well, about time all the pieces fell into place." In his mind he could still hear the voices echoing from the past that had spurred this project into motion. A conversation he was never meant to know of overheard when he was still a boy hating the world.

"That island nation will never bow to us, Young Master. Think of the family and their history."  
"Oh but there is away. That Lord's sister is engaged to one who I think will be our Ally."  
" Yes, if he were to be folded into our plans . . ."  
"Take Dressrosa for our own, and leave North Blue operations in that man's hands . . . It will take considerable time though"  
"When the time comes that throne will be held from Krocylea."

Krocylea, one of a group of eight islands together considered part of one of the 170 countries belonging to the world government. All of them ruled by a governor excepting only Neritm, at the center, which held the king's throne. Krocylea was on the northern most fringe. Law had heard sailors joke that it was the last truly habitable island before they hit the iced seas. He had traveled further north himself, and there were other islands there, but he had to admit he wouldn't want to call any of them home.

Home, there was that word again. It had been a long time since he had anything that could be called a home. Perhaps he might have called the island that at one point but there were too many factors, too many plans, and a goal he had to achieve, would achieve at any cost. Krocylea was only the first step on a chess board for which the pieces had finally been set. Now he had six months. He could not stay longer than that. He wasn't sure he could even manage to stay that long. He prayed the other had remembered to maintain his position and that his original back story still held up.

The ship disappeared into the overcast horizon and he turned his gray eyes to peer down at the back of the gloved hand holding the rucksack. There were things about him, things he had done, if they learned about them even those he called friends here might be tempted to drive him out of town. But he had to see this thing through, and with the way things stood now, the uncertainty of his future, he might as well be fourteen again stepping onto the island's docks for the very first time. He could remember that stage of his life easily enough . . .

Many years past . . .

The trample of worker's boots sounded as sailors ran back and forth across the deck furling sails and casting mooring lines before raising a ramp from the dock for their passengers to disembark. One pair waited for the others to pass before a fourteen year old Trafalgar Law slowly and carefully led a much taller woman to the edge of the ramp keeping a tight hold of her hand the entire time. "Here, Leana-san, step up and then I'm going to turn and you put your hands on my shoulders okay?" and true to his world the boy very carefully supported the woman as she gingerly took the first step onto the ramp, before guiding her hands to settle onto the shoulders of his rumpled, black suit jacket. "Let me know if I'm going too fast," he stated forcing confidence into his voice he didn't have as he scanned the crowd below for the face his fellow passenger had described to him. It had been a force of luck or an act of God, if one believed in those sorts of things, that had led them to each other. The blind woman without help and the boy without a friend. Each had discovered something of value in the other's company during the duration of the voyage. She a pair of eyes to guide her, and he a lack of the abuse that usually followed a boy alone in the world. Believing he belonged to the woman the sailors had treated him with kindness and pity rather that the usual attitude that he was a useless child in the way.

"Melaena? Is that you?" a booming voice rang out as Law's feet touched the gray planks of the dock. Law felt Leana-san's hands start on his shoulders as her head swung around with an affirmative answer issuing from her smiling lips. Carefully he turned so that the two of them could face the speaker. Law found himself looking at a man of average height, broad shoulders, dressed in a charcoal colored business suit, with flecks of gray at the temples of his short black hair. The man's hazel eyes seemed to take everything in at a single glace, and Law felt himself instinctively straightening his posture as the gentleman took a step forward to take the woman's arm. "It is fortunate you contacted me. My brother was such a worthless fellow, dying like that and leaving you stranded." But this was said with a smile that implied no ill will was meant to the deceased at all and the words were some sort of inside joke Law would never understand.

"And who is this young man?" Law felt the man's eye's land on him with a weighted gaze. He tried not to shift his feet uncomfortable. This civilian was nothing compared to the pirate Doflamingo, or so he tried to tell himself.

"His name is Law," Leana-san answered for him, "Tiberius, he has been a great help to me. In addition to guiding me and running my errands he seems to have some medical knowledge and was able to ease my headaches."  
"My father was a doctor," Law managed to murmur by way of explanation." and Leana-san squeezed his shoulders with her hands, no doubt in an attempt to be comforting.  
"More than that, I've managed to get out of him that he has no living relation and as a kindness to repay his kindness I had hoped you might be able to find a place for him somewhere." It was more than Law had thought he deserved but he made no protest. The truth was he had a promise to keep and based on everything he knew this island seemed the best place to start. He was going to need to find a way to start a life here of some kind and the more reputable he could make that the better his chances of success.  
Tiberius's lips twisted in a sort of smile and Law tried not to flinch. "The son of a physician, huh? As you know I am a physician myself. Should he show any promise I might choose to take him as an apprentice. Come, you'll stay with us until I know what to do with you. I hope you're the useful sort."

Soon enough they were being herded towards a carriage where they were left to wait as Tiberius directed the porter in the arrangements of their bags.

Not long after, the man had climbed into the driver's seat and with the flick of a whip the whole vehicle started moving. "It's not mine you understand," Tiberius called over his shoulder his voice taking the lecturing tone Law would soon come to expect, "I don't keep more than a saddle horse usually, and Master Baringer of the inn has the use of that for his delivery boy, so long as the horse is in it stall when I want it for visiting the country. No, this carriage fine as it is, pity you can't see it properly Melaena I'll describe it to you later, this carriage belongs to the governor. That's his house, you can just see its peak above the rise there, Boy." Law looked in the indicated direction and could make out the peak of a red tiled roof rising above what seemed to be a line of trees on top of a plateau perhaps a mile away from the town. He would have been content to sit and look at the buildings and people that now surrounded him as they drove through the square, but Tiberius had continued in his explanation of the carriage.

"He likes my company you see. He went through a rather nasty bout of pneumonia a few years ago which I nursed him out of. We've been quite close ever since and when I told him of your coming he insisted on doing something to ease your travel, Meleana. He unfortunately couldn't spare the driver, or perhaps I should say the poor man's head cold wouldn't spare him, but as it is I think this worked out for the best. We can maintain our own timetable this way. Not far now." And indeed they had gone perhaps five blocks southwest of the square when he pulled on the reigns bringing the horse to a stop outside a three story, gray town house with a brown roof, that had been squeezed into the middle of a row among other houses of the same style (albeit different colors) in what seemed to be a rather prosperous if not high class neighborhood. There was a small sign hanging over the door advertising a physician and apothecary and in the window of the door below was a small sign that said quite plainly 'closed.'

A second latter Tiberius was springing from the driver's seat and moving to open the carriage door while Law helped Leana-san to turn properly so she could be lifted down to the pavement. Two seconds later the door to the premises was opened and a young woman of about eighteen years was running down the steps and wiping her hands on her apron, a welcoming grin spread wide across her round face, brown braid bouncing with each step.

"Ah, Rebecca, Just in time!" Tiberius boomed as he lifted Leana-san from her seat and held her until he was quite sure her feet were firmly on the pavement. Law was left to scramble out, rather awkwardly, on his own. "Is lunch ready?"

"It will be in about fifteen minutes."

"Alright, Melaena? Rebecca is my neighbor's daughter. I've hired her to help with the cooking, and general upkeep of the place. I'm afraid I've been a bachelor too long to be much good at that sort of thing. She's going to help you into the house now. Boy, come here and help me with the luggage."

Law barely had time to turn before a suitcase was thrust into his arms, and just enough time to shout "Leana-san, remember to count the steps!" over his shoulder before another was added on top of it. Grunting with the weight Law staggered slightly, but managed to make the few feet between the carriage and the house and the three steps up to the still open door without dropping anything.

One inside he found himself in what seemed to be a small apothecary shop, and hearing the women's voices turned directly right to find himself in a small, but well equipped, kitchen where he deposited everything on the scrubbed wooden table hoping it would be out of the way until he knew where it belonged. There were two doors leading off the back of the kitchen. After poking his head around one to see it lead to a small hallway containing a set of stairs and what appeared to be a half bath beneath them, Law turned into the other room, a general living area, where the maid Rebecca was settling Leana-san into a rocking chair next to an open window where she could feel the sun and hear the birds sing in the small yard beyond.

Once he knew where things belonged it didn't take long to get everything settled and put away. Leana-san hadn't brought very much with her to begin with, while Law had only what he could carry in his pockets, and while Tiberius was busy moving some of the heavier pieces of furniture into areas where they would be least likely to be tripped over, Law headed back into the kitchen with the intention of helping Rebecca serve lunch. He had been told to be useful after all. She set him to peeling and cutting up an assortment of fruit she had placed out on the counter while she busied herself with pulling bread from the oven and slicing it into perfectly even pieces. Law had just finished adding apple wedges to a plate when he saw it. Pushed to the back of the counter where he had almost missed it was a strange fruit with and oddly swirled patterned skin. He knew what it was immediately. just as he knew it was necessary to hide that knowledge for as long as possible. And so to cover any potential future slip he asked.  
"Miss, what is this strange one," as he pointed to the fruit in question.

"That, boy, is a Devil's fruit," Law felt his whole body grow suddenly cold at the tone of the voice booming behind him.. "It's meant for a very prestigious buyer . . . The man paid in advance and soon will send an agent to collect it. You are to leave it alone, understand."

Law frowned, but gave the obligatory, "yes, Sir."

Tiberius shook his head. "I apologize if I was harsh. but the first thing you must learn is that the devil fruits are rare and highly prized. Part of my trade does include their collection and sale though it is not a fact I spread about willy-nilly. When I have such you are to treat it with care like a precious gem. And If I find you have eaten one of mine I will first tan your hide and then set you to work off the cost."

Law nodded more determined than ever to hide the truth from this man's sharp eyes. All that remained was to learn to his own abilities in secret and to remember he couldn't swim.

Law had to admit Leana-san had a knack for getting her way. Tiberius did indeed decide he had talent and took him for apprentice while Leana-san doted on him as only a woman with no children of her own can, yet for the next couple of weeks Law himself was completely miserable. Rebecca gave a pitying sigh every time she saw him, and Rebecca's mother, to whom she had related the story of what she knew of his past - his his lack of home and parents, kept popping over for a visit and declaring in a loud voice what a fine future Law might have if he could only follow Tiberius's fine instruction. Their host piled every book he could find that contained even a reference to medicine on his workshop desk and told Law in no uncertain terms that he was expected to study. The man himself seemed to have a thriving practice and it was very clear why he needed the extra help and why law was being pushed so hard. Yet no matter his prior education on the subject, Tibirius expected Law to do everything in the way he was now being taught. Worse even the older man seemed to be constantly called to the compound on the hill to tend to some matter for the Governor that Law began to suspect had nothing to do with the medical practice whatsoever. It seemed Law's gut instinct to start on this island at least had something to it. It all lead to a rather tense household and Law began looking for a way out. Tiberius left to visit patients, Leana-san was taken out by various ladies of the town on social visits, even Rebecca got to go home at the end of the day, but Law was left in the workshop surrounded by books with a list of questions he was supposed to know the answers to by the end of each day. And with Tiberius a practicing physician, Law wasn't even left with the option of faking sick just for a day of relief.

It was with a reluctant heart that he snuck out one afternoon, but the moment the outside air hit his face he felt infinitely better, and he ran several blocks just for the feeling of the cool air on his skin. Soon enough he began to pay attention to his surroundings for it would do him no good to get lost, and he very quickly realized how large the town actually was. There was the main square; the fish market down by the docks; a produce market on the east side teaming with the fruit, vegetables, and grains the farmers of the surrounding country brought in; and an entire row of houses that seemed devoted just to clothing shops with the proprietors living above them. He passed bakeries, and book stores, and several doctors' offices (scattered throughout town), and had very quickly decided that he would need at least a week to see it all properly, when Law spotted Tiberius stepping out of a townhouse just three houses down from where he currently stood. He quickly ducked down an alley managing only to hear something about a boy's broken leg, before he was well out of reach. Perhaps exploring the city was a bit ambitious with Tiberius so well known. That didn't mean he had to return to the house though.

In his wanderings Law had overheard several farmers wishing they could get their wagons down the footpath from the plateau for the distance was shorter than the main road, and it was this Law decided to explore next. Perhaps if it truly wasn't as far as it looked he might even sneak a peek at the Governor's compound. As he climbed Law could easily see why the farmers had been complaining. There was no way a wagon would fit the trail. The hill was steep and rocky, there was an almost absurd number of switchbacks, and in some places it ran so close to the edge that he was sure that any wagon that tried to pass would fall, but to a young teen who had been confined inside for a number of days the exercise was welcome and he reached the top sooner than expected. Law clambered along the path a bit further until he reached a place where he could easily look down upon the city and the sea below. But rather than the view, he was much more interested in something else. The path wound along until it reached the main road, and soon after that appeared to be a small pond apparently fed by the irrigation runoff of several nearby farms. It wasn't the pond that interested Law though; rather it was the people standing around it.

He couldn't exactly see them clearly, but it was easy enough to make out the forms of three boys and one girl all seemingly close to his own age, judging by their size at least. Law watched as the three males seemed to surround the female backing her towards the pond; their shouting was easily audible. "I don' care if the old governor is your grandfather, nobody asked your father to come, and nobody asked him to bring you!"

"I wasn't . . . I didn't mean . . ." the girl stammered anxiously.

"Yeah this island is doing just fine, we don't need anybody new!" A second boy added.

"No . . . that's not . . . Grandpa keeps getting sick, Pa just wants to help!"

"Help? Ha! Take things over and run it his way more likely!" the first jumped back in. "According to my Da' the lot of them need to learn a lesson!"

"I wonder if she can swim!" the owner of the last voice rushed at the girl, but Law was faster. Without quite knowing why and blaming the influence of one he had lost, he had begun moving the moment he realized the danger she was in, with a cry of "leave her alone!" issuing from his lips. His feet carried him forward to place himself between her and the boy at the precise moment the other lad lowered his shoulder intending to barrel his target into the pond at full strength. Law never had a chance. He took the blow in his stomach losing all the air from his lungs. At the same moment his feet left the ground and his opponent's forward momentum carried both of them forwards several steps where the boy stopped suddenly at the bank, and Law was sent plunging into the water.

The pond was deep. Far deeper then he had expected. For a brief moment Law forgot he had eaten the devil fruit. He tried to swim. There was a moment or two where he managed to strike out with his arms and kick with his feet, but a paralysis quickly took over. Unable to move and barely conscious he began to sink, like a hammer, to the bottom. Law never really heard the second splash, or felt the small hands grab hold of his jacket and pull him to the surface though he knew both must have happened. The next thing he was truly aware of was coughing up water onto the muddy bank as a small hand repeatedly struck his back as if trying to pound the offending liquid from his lungs. He'd have to make a point of telling his savior later that that was not the proper way to resuscitate a drowning victim.

"Oh look, now she has to go and play hero!" a mocking voice cackled. Law struggling to catch his breath looked at the girl next to him, the girl who had obviously just saved him, and had to contain his shock. He had clearly overestimated her age. She had to be at least two years younger than him. At least! Way too young to be out here on her own! Though after the life he'd lived he was probably the last person to make that judgement. She was obviously from a well to do family, if her soaked through once elaborate curls didn't point to that, her pale blue waterlogged satin dress did. And not only had she been facing down three boys each easily twice her size, but then she had jumped into a filthy irrigation pond to save him, a perfect stranger. Hadn't he been trying to save her?

"Looks like we didn't have to make her swim after all, she jumped in at the mere suggestion. Hey, Girlie, if we tell you to jump off the ridge will you do that too? Or are you going to run home to Daddy."

"Yeah just because your great uncle's the king . . ." The king? Law mused. The girl was related to the king and they were still willing to yell at her? "That doesn't mean we're going to let you get away with everything!" The lad stepped forwards a nasty smirk on his face.

Law had had it! He didn't know what was going on, or understand what the problem was, but to take it out on a little girl of all things! He could feel the anger welling up inside him as he pushed himself to his feet and in the corner of his mind he could feel himself thinking though every manner of fighting he had ever learned, even though in his fury he was acting more on instinct then actual knowledge, instinct that had been pounded into him via various instructors. "Oi!" he shouted and they all looked at him, "I thought I said leave her alone!" he growled taking a step forward.

"Or what? There's one of you and three of us!" the three boys were laughing now. Something in Law's mind clicked together as his eyes found a long branch on the ground in front of him. His toe slid under it's length kicking it up to his palm and he spun the rod in his hand, testing its balance and finding the perfect grip. At the same time his foot slid back putting him in to a swordsman's stance though he slipped slightly on the muddy bank. It looked odd seen in a young man of fourteen, but it was very clear Law knew what he was doing and intended some harm. Law's eyes narrowed and he took a slash, causing all three to leap back with a yelp as they got out of range. Internally Law seethed. If only he dared use his powers.

The three boys looked at each other uncertainty and then began to back up. One tripped on an untied bootlace and fall flat on his back.

The abrupt sound of laughter shattered the serious scene. Not the high-pitched childish laughter of the boys, but the deeper, booming, laughter of a full-grown man. "RARGrargrargrargrarg!"

Law swung his head around as the sound of clapping was added to it, and then dropped the branch from his hand completely as his jaw fell open in shock. Approaching from the same footpath he had climbed only minutes earlier was a tall, heavy set, bushy bearded, auburn haired man, with gold-flecked green eyes, a flamboyant shirt belted with a red sash, a black leather sea coat with a long nodochi belted over the back, and shiny black sailor's boots. He was striding towards them at a steady, bowlegged, pace laughing and clapping as he walked, but what baffled Law the most was the question of what the man, obviously a pirate to Law's eyes, was doing there walking in the direction of the compound.

"Very amusing, lad," he chuckled, "Very amusing. But don't you think that's enough? After all if you start a fight with uncertain footing you could hurt someone, and maybe not the person you intend to." Law's eyes went wide as he grasped the full meaning of those words and spinning around he sought out the girl who had pulled him from the water. She was sitting right where he had left her but aside from looking very shocked and wet she didn't seem to be harmed at all. Indeed, unlike the three boys who had taken this stranger's appearance for an excuse to quickly disappear, she didn't seem to be afraid of him in the slightest.

"You are Law," the man remarked looking him over. It wasn't a question. "I've heard enough about you to know who you are on sight, and you," here he looked at the girl, "must be High-Lord Elgar's daughter, Annette. Your nursemaid was looking for you in the town. Seemed to think you'd snuck out, again. Come let's get you home before you catch cold." And with a strong hand he hauled her up and set out to the Governor's compound motioning for Law to follow after as quickly as possible the girl protesting the entire way.

Law had very little awareness of his surroundings during that journey. There was something about the man he was following that demanded his attention. The man in question may have seemed a bit awkward, he was definitely a bit bowlegged when he walked for one thing with a belly like father Christmas, but he radiated a confidence and power that couldn't help but draw the eye. Law also had the distinct impression that this man didn't really care about them, or if Annette caught a cold, he simply wanted a way to amuse himself and the children where the closest thing at hand. That impression grew even greater when, after leaving Annette with her housekeeper, along with a note of some kind, he declared he was now going to escort Law home.

As they walked, Law leading the way, he began to get an entirely new impression. This was a very dangerous man who knew a great deal too much about Law's current host and incidentally Law himself. His opinion was confirmed when he directed Law to take a shortcut back to the house. Law paused before turning around to face him. "If . . .if I may ask, would . . . would you tell me your name?" he managed looking up at the wide smile that only grew wider and turned into a laugh at the question.

"Sure, Squirt, my name's Ryan Beckett," he boomed. Law could feel the blood draining from his face. He knew that name, it had been plastered all over the newspapers for months though no picture had ever been attached, only a crude drawing, and now he was here? The Pirate wanted for that incident. The man only laughed harder. "Your master refers to me as Lord Smith, I don't believe he's figured out the truth and he's never bothered to ask straight out as you just did. That or he's too smart to ask. Let's keep it that way." A heavy hand patted Law's shoulder and the teen tried not to stumble under its weight.

Law took a deep breath, refusing to allow himself to ask what the man was doing on the island, swallowed, and nodded his head, "Yes, Sir." Turning and trying desperately not to break into a run, he lead the rest of the way home. His mind was already beginning to form a third impression. This man, Ryan Beckett, was like a giant spider sitting in the center of a massive web, and a seemingly silken thread had just latched onto him. Law had seen flies in spider webs before. He knew that the harder he struggled the tighter he'd be bound. The only thing to do was sit tight, ride this thing out, and hope he was forgotten.

Bringing home Beckett was less of a disaster than Law originally thought it was going to be, and it saved Law the lecture he might otherwise have gotten for sneaking out. It seemed one of Beckett's men had dropped by the house to inform the physician to expect the man, and though he was as white as a sheet, Tiberius was in complete control of his faculties. Gesturing to the most comfortable chair in the living room he offered drinks, and in a rather composed manner, managed to ask the question that was perhaps the most difficult. "I am to assume that your early arrival means that you did indeed receive my letter?"

Beckett smiled and gave a small chuckle. "Indeed. Imagine how pleased I was to find that the devil fruit, which I had many men in multiple countries searching for, had finally been found. I hope you haven't eaten it yourself If that were the case I'd have to turn to plan B. I don't particularly like plan B, but the only acceptable solution would be to kill you and start the search all over again. Perhaps I'd get lucky and the fruit would re-appear in your kitchen." His chuckle was even louder this time and Law felt his blood grow cold. It wasn't the idea of death that disturbed him; rather it was the matter-of-fact way this man had mentioned killing someone. It was just something he would do. To him a life was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

"Lord Smith," Tiberius started forward, "I assure you that is not the case . . ." Beckett held up a hand and the man stopped.

"Surly by now you can tell when I jest. Bring me the fruit."

In minutes Tiberius had produced the fruit in question and Beckett held it proudly in one hand. "Yes," he whispered to himself, "Yes, the Kumo Kumo no mi, model wolf . . . Do you know what I could do with this? It may very well turn the tide in my favor -" His eyes suddenly locked on Law and the boy seemed to feel the web tightening.

"Tell me lad, if you were given a devil fruit and the promise you could use it for revenge, who would you go after? Hmmmm? An old bully, your school master perhaps?"

Law had no clue where this mode of questioning was leading but he didn't miss a beat. He had made a promise after all, to himself and to the dead. "Donquixote Doflamingo." it was a brash statement considering how far the pirate's empire had grown in the short time since that incident, how far it would grow considering Law currently had no way of stopping it, a fourteen year-old boy on a backwater island in North Blue, but it was also the truth.

At this Beckett threw his head back and roared with laughter, "Well, the kid has spunk! Perhaps you're not so weak after all, just lack the proper guidance! I think I'm beginning to come up with plan C, and I do think I like plan C." He continued to chuckle and Law had the distinct feeling he had just made some kind of mistake.

There was a squeak of a door hinge and all three looked to the back of the room where the door connecting the hall was slowly swinging open. A delicate hand wrapped around the edge. The frail form of Leane-san followed the hand, her dark hair hanging loose and slightly messed as if she had just woken from a nap. She walked in with the hesitant step of someone who knew exactly where they were going, but couldn't see if there were any obstacles in the way. "I hope I am not intruding," she spoke softly, "but I heard voices and laughter and thought I might invite myself to the fun?"

"Of course madam," Beckett chuckled, "sit down. Our conversation concerns your son after all."

"Forgive me sir, but you are mistaken." Leane-san corrected. "Law is not my son." she made her way over to the rocking chair under the window and sitting so that she was looking towards the sound Beckett's voice. Law knew she was trying for eye contact, but in reality her gaze was approximately a foot to the right of where the man actually sat. "Though he has become dear to me in his kindness."

"Never fear dear lady," the smile the woman couldn't see sent another wave of chills down Law's spine, "we were just discussing Law's hopes for the future, and I think I might be able to further his dream. Squirt, go stand by the good woman. Having you stand in the middle of the room like you are makes conversation awkward."

Law had very little choice and so he did as he was told without arguing. He feared more than anything that this was about to be the end of all his plans, yet at the same time he found himself blooming with hope. The moment he reached her side, however, Leane-san seemed to sense something was wrong and she reached out a hand for his shoulder. "Law, you're soaking wet!" she exclaimed as her hands felt around the collar of his coat. "Go change." And using the same hand she reached around and gently pushed him towards the door she had just entered.

Beckett gave another chuckle in what Law could only suppose was triumph. "Ah, as I thought, you are blind." He declared stating the obvious.

Law felt a surge of protective anger and he answered not bothering to think of the danger doing so might bring. "Even blind she sees more than most adults!"

Leane-san's hand nudged him towards the door again, her calm voice cutting through the tension in the air like a knife through butter. "Law, go change your clothes."

Law walked quickly from the room trying desperately to smother his feelings, and the moment the door closed behind him he tore down the hall, up two flights of stairs, and into his own room on the third floor of the town house. Once there he pulled off his wet cloths and pulled fresh from the drawer without bothering to look at what he was putting on. After all if his future was in question he wanted to waste as little time as possible. Once dressed he flew back down the stairs to the ground floor where he paused outside the door to the living room suddenly unsure if he should go in or not. Waiting, he decided, was probably the better plan. Then he could listen and figure out what to do. Carefully, so the floor wouldn't creek, he stepped up to the door and pressed his face to the small crack that had been left between it and the jam. The only person he could see was Beckett, but he trusted he'd be able to determine any trouble from the tone of the other adults' voices.

Tiberius's low rumble on an unintelligible question was quickly overrode by Beckett's laughter. "Rargrargrarg, No, keep the extra money as an advance payment. You are a family man now and you may need the funds. In exchange, when the boy is old enough to sail, a year, maybe two, and when you feel he's safe to practice medicine without a watching eye, he will join one of my "shipping crews". He's going to need to work under others eventually anyway. I'll bring him back to visit occasionally."

"How long will it last?" Leane-san asked softly and Law could hear the worry in her voice.

"Who knows, ten, fifteen years maybe." He shrugged, "The squirt could decide he hates the arrangement in a matter of months. Though there's a look in his eyes that makes me think he already understands the world in a way neither of you ever could." He smiled then, the kind of smile that left no doubt he would not take no for an answer.

"Tiberius what do you think." He heard Leane-san ask. He could hear the uncertainty in her voice and he made the decision himself. "I'll do it!" Law declared throwing the door open and bursting into the room. No one asked him why. The look on his face made it plain he was determined. This development the chance to grow, it could only enhance his odds of success. besides, in a few years he'd be stronger and better able to do what he needed to.

Over the next year Beckett was a frequent visitor popping in every couple of months to check on the boy's progress and studies, always leaving the same day, until the time he declared Law had grown enough to come with him. Law packed a rucksack, wished Leane-san a tearful (on her part) goodbye, shook hands with his Tiberius, and left. His life turned completely upside down at that point. No longer was he a simple town boy apprenticed to be a physician. Now, though still learning medicine, he was flung again into association with the worst type and given an entirely new perspective on what man could be. He was beaten fairly for mistakes, starved with the rest of the crew when supplies ran low, but he began to see, as the pirate lord called Doflamingo once claimed, how a crew could become a family. And Beckett's crew was indeed one made up of pirates.

Law grew up, against his own better judgment, into something of a villain himself. However, when Law took the time to step back and reflect he had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it. Besides, in some ways Law was learning that pirates could be just as good a man as any other, even if Beckett did draw everyone he met into the web of his plans.

Yet, through it all he was very careful not to mention any specifics to those who remained on Krocylea. During his infrequent visits he had learned that the general population of the town had formed the widely accepted opinion that he was off traveling with various merchant vessels and perfecting his medicinal arts under the care of some of North Blue's most prestigious doctors. Law never intended to correct them. Let the people keep their delusions. Ignorance, after all, was bliss.

. . . Present

High above, one of Krocylea's native red tailed hawks issued a cry, the call pulling Law back from his mental musings and into his current task. He gave one last look to the point on the horizon where the ship had disappeared, glanced over the city below where only the earliest of early risers were beginning to stir, then turned around to face the long thin trail's destination, and started striding towards it. The soft crunch of loose gravel gained a distinctly harder packed sound when he stepped onto the road and though he reached the pond soon after, Law was so focused on the destination that he paid no attention to the fact that it now was covered in a very thin sheet of ice. He hadn't been here in some time, and aside from Leane-san who would still be asleep at this hour, the first person he wanted to see lived in the compound up ahead.


	2. If it Walks Like a Man

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 **If it Walks Like a Man and Talks Like a Man, it Must Be a Bear**

Bepo walked slowly along the lawn letting all four paws feel the crunch of the leaves and dying grass beneath them, breathing deeply to take in the smell of falling foliage, pine needles, and earth that floated along with the sharp smell of cold in the air. The breeze sent a chill through him as it rushed along the place on his right thigh beneath the thick shorts he wore where his fur had refused to grow back after he had received a particularly nasty burn. It was almost ironic that the burn should take the shape of one of his own paws, or so Bepo thought even though it had only three toes. The reason behind that particular mark still infuriated him along with the fact that the only reason he was currently allowed the shorts at the moment was due to the kindness of the lady of the house. After all he was supposed to be pretending to be her pet bear. Bepo had a few choice words saved up for Law when the man returned. Bepo may be a polar bear Minkman, but that did not mean he was going to behave completely like an animal for long!

The wind continued to gust, sometimes growing stronger ruffling the fur between his ears and sometimes blowing so softly he could barely tell it was there. Although it had the bite of winter to it, it hadn't snowed yet, but it soon would, most likely before nightfall. He was sure of it. Bepo had a sort of sixth sense when it came to the weather, he supposed most of his kind did, but he couldn't be quite sure of that. He hadn't actually ever thought to ask when he'd had the chance. Bepo let his head hang with a sigh as his paws padded through the dried grass letting his nose catch the scent of a rabbit that had recently rushed through the undergrowth. It was on days like this he missed his home the most, though he would never regret all the things he had learned after leaving.

The three years on the island had taught him things as well, though he wished he could have spent them as himself. He understood why Law wanted him to pretend to be a pet, but there were definitely days the fact annoyed him. He missed his freedom, missed the ocean, and missed his friends. There were only two beings on the island who even knew what he truly was, well three of them if the Law, who was always at sea, could be counted. One of the two only knew a little bit, the barest scratch on the surface, the other . . . well the other technically owned him. Not that he minded, the lady was truly the kindest human he had ever met. It was actually the concept of being able to be owned that bothered him, and she said he was free, but he could never really be free. Not as long as he had to walk on all four paws, and growl his answers to questions, not as long as he had to pretend to be a plain, boring, stupid bear. Maybe someday it would be different. He was still young by minkman standards after all.

Heaving another sigh Bepo lumbered over the brown grass towards the apple orchard that bordered the drive up to the stone wall outside the Elgar compound's main gate. The last harvest of the season shone bright red in the early morning light on the branches he could see peeking over the wall, and the sight was too tempting to resist. The guards at the gate let him pass. They knew he was too tame to wander too far and cause any harm to city below. The worst Bepo had ever done was scare some of the townsfolk who weren't expecting to see a bear, and perhaps growl a little bit when he was unhappy. Oh and he had once bitten the Law's hand, but at the time even Law had admitted he deserved it, and besides it had really been more of a nip and the whole incident had long since been forgiven.

Bepo made his way slowly down the road until he could no longer see the wall, the gate, and the guards, and then looking slowly around to make sure he couldn't be seen, he reared up and methodically plucked several apples from the branches of the closest trees. Strictly speaking he was supposed to leave the apples alone. Gathering them carefully so that anyone who might walk up the road wouldn't be able to tell exactly how talented he was with his paws, he curled up at the base of the closest tree and began to enjoy his forbidden treat.

A soft crunch on the gravel of the road alerted Bepo to the approach of a visitor. Though the sound came from some distance he dropped his apple immediately, rising to stand in the middle of the path. Bepo intended to be the first to great the guest for he had long ago promised to protect one particular resident of the Elgar compound behind him, and Bepo wished to have the chance to determine if the approaching person was dangerous. He stood waiting patiently on all fours like the pet he was supposed to be until the figure drew closer, becoming first near enough to see it was a being in a long charcoal gray coat and furry, spotted hat, and then to see that it was a male human, and finally to make out the brown rucksack swinging over one of the human's shoulders.

The man stopped as he drew near enough to notice the bear, and then continued again stopping only five feet away from where Bepo stood guard. "Hello, Bepo," a strong voice rang out, "it's been a while."

In response Bepo reared to his hind feet rising to his full nine-foot height, and approached the individual. Walking forwards he lifted his left paw easily above the man's head. Bepo had to acknowledge that he was impressed to find that Law neither backed away nor tried to duck as the paw swung forwards to land gently, if heavily, on the man's shoulder. Instead of falling over backwards as most did, usually out of surprise, this man shifted his weight and settled into the balls of his feet strengthening his stance. Even his scent was absent of fear. They knew each other well after all. Bepo snuffled and stuck his nose literally in the Law's face, knocking the hat off his head, and taking in a scent that was all too familiar if infrequently encountered of late.

Removing his paw he backed away a few steps staring at the male intently before voicing rather hesitantly and awkwardly, his bear's mouth was ill formed for human speech and he was out of practice, the thought that was crossing his mind. "I'm getting tired of waiting, Law."

"I'm sorry!" came a short reply, "But this plan is ten years in the making and we're only a few months shy of getting what we need here." And picking up his hat from the road the Law continued past Bepo towards the walled compound and main gate. Bepo walked beside him a few steps staring in curiosity, before suddenly remembering himself and dropping to all fours again.

"I'm sorry."

The man, Trafalgar Law, smiled in amusement now looking down to meet his eyes, "You're my best friend Bepo. I promise I won't leave you in this state much longer. We're nearly there, and then we can both get out of here."

"I'm sorry." Bepo apologized again and hung his head for a moment but soon after stole a look at his walking companion. "You, you were here eight months ago and stayed only three days, and didn't visit for six months before that when you stayed only two. A year before that you stayed five days, and ten months before that . . ."

"I dragged you into this mess and got you shot" Trafalgar Law finished for him. "I remember." Bepo remembered as well . . .

Three years earlier . . .

Bepo was furious with Law. This was not the way the plan was supposed to go. The minkman threw himself against the bars of the cage in which he was held, refusing to put on a submissive show. They had expected the cage, had expected the cramped quarters on the ship. They had not expected the whips and blows Bepo had been subjected to once Law had left. Nor had he expected them to change buyers last minute. He didn't know what that meant for the plan. All he knew was that in meant more pain. He wished he could beg them to stop, but he knew from watching the others that any animal who displayed any extraordinary trait was forced to perform for crowds of humans. Bepo couldn't stomach even trying to imagine what they might do to him if they learned he was actually a Minkman. But his predicament now was just as bad if not worse.

They had forced him out of the big enclosure where he was kept with two other bears, one large and brown, the other smaller and white like Bepo but with black splotches all over, and then they had taken him to another human who had on thick, heavy, leather gloves. The man had pressed a brand, glowing red with heat, into Bepo's right thigh. Up to that point Bepo had been fairly complacent. But the moment the brand touched his skin he went wild. The smell of burning fur and flesh was nauseating, but the pain was worse. His paws and muzzle were bound tightly with rope with several humans holding onto each one in an effort to keep him contained, but he pushed forwards at full force attempting to escape and managed to drag them across the floor like puppets in the process. Several humans ran to get in front of him, but by that point Bepo had managed to loose a paw. Claws extended he lashed out in several swipes, slashing across one man's chest and forcing the others to make way for him. Humans screamed and shouted, another group of men appeared though they were smart enough to stay out of his range. They started shooting him with tranquilizer darts and though Bepo's fur was thick, these darts struck through to his skin and stayed. At first he was angrier than ever, but then he felt sleepy, so sleepy that he couldn't stop himself from collapsing to the floor.

When he woke he was packed into a tiny cage on the deck of a ship. Alright, so perhaps the cage wasn't so small, but with a full grown bear-minkman crammed inside . . . there wasn't much for him to do except sit tight and think of a way out, and the earful he would give Law. Bepo was far from the stupid animal these humans seemed to think he was. Whoever the new buyer was, Bepo had the distinct impression that it would be worse than these humans and he had no desire to find out firsthand. Besides, he still had to figure out a way to complete the plan. That left one option, escape onto the indicated island and hope it could be worked out another way. If he managed it properly everything could still work. He was sure Law would find a way. Day after day they sailed north, always north Bepo's internal bear compass wouldn't let him forget something as simple as direction, and he had plenty of time to plan his way out as he healed.

As they traveled, Bepo, acting on the plan he had eventually settled on, began to pretend he was ill. He had overheard stories from his human captors of animals that had sickened and died on long sea voyages, costing them their profit. They seemed to fear that, the loss of their profit not the animal. To make money off him Bepo knew they would do whatever they could to keep him alive.

Bepo started with pacing relentlessly in the minuscule space of his cage. He forced himself to pant heavily. He refused to eat and hardly touched the water they gave him. Eventually he curled up into a ball and held as still as possible. The crew was worried. Bepo could tell from the whispered conversations. They talked about finding a vet and what to do if they lost him, and whether or not he had already been paid for. Someone asked if he specifically had been bought, or just any ice-bear. Bepo knew his plan was working. The ship transporting him pulled into port to re-supply at about the time Bepo had calculated they would reach the island he was supposed to be on, and a vet was called. It was an elderly man with hair as white as Bepo's fur and Bepo had to wonder if vet wasn't in more need of medical attention than they believed he was. They didn't bother to make him sleep or tie him up. They thought he was too ill to cause any harm, and so the moment the human male opened the cage and knelt down next to him Bepo sprang over his head and began to run knocking aside the guards before they even had a chance to draw the tranquilizer guns.

He bounded across the deck and down the plank, and then raced along the docks where men leapt into the water to get out of his way. Cries of "bear!" "Catch him!" and "Shoot it!" echoed in various voices as he raced along and for a moment Bepo felt a thread of scorn for those that couldn't even tell a minkman from an animal. Somewhere on the left he heard the shot of a gun and a sharp pain suddenly sprang up in his right rear leg originating just above his knee, causing him to stumble slightly, but he was large and heavy and the pain was nothing compared to what he had already endured.

Bepo could see the town in front of him, could see the people all over the place, the humans who saw him screamed and shouted, pushing each other out of his way. This was dangerous. There were too many tight spaces in this place, too many humans; it was too easy to get caught or accidentally harm someone else. The first chance he saw, Bepo veered into a side street and ran for the edges of the metropolis, eventually making his way into a field of grass and the fringe of a thin wood behind it. He didn't dare stop. He kept running, ignoring the pain that was building in his leg, ignoring the panic he had cause behind him, relieved only that now there were no humans in front who could potentially block his way. He would hide, tend his wounds, and then find Law to see if the plan could be salvaged.

The ground began to climb sharply and Bepo pushed ahead, even though he was beginning to tire. He hadn't eaten properly in days, his ruse required him to sacrifice the meals, and they had never fed him enough for him to store up any amount of reserve energy. On top of that the pain in his leg had reached an excruciating level. The injury must be worse than he originally thought.

Still, he pushed onward. The hill eventually leveled out onto flat land again and Bepo inwardly sighed with relief. This was easier than climbing. Up ahead of him he could see another group of humans. And his hope of escape began to die. He was exhausted, he was in pain, if he tried to go around and they saw him he would surely be caught. So he decided to barrel through. Hopefully they'd be so shocked it would buy him some extra time before they either gave chase, or called for help. He lowered his head and charged forward realizing too late that those in front of him were not adult humans but human young, commonly called teens, and the group included Law. Bepo could see the surprise on his friend's face.

Law shouted and the young people scattered, but in their rush to get away they knocked one of their number to the ground. Unfortunately she wasn't just knocked to the ground, she was knocked to the ground in Bepo's path. Her green eyes went wide in fright as she tried to scramble out of the way but her foot caught in the hem of her blue dress and she slipped again. He didn't want to trample her and so he tried to stop, the effort needed causing him to rear back onto his hindquarters, the sudden pain shooting through his left side bringing a cry from his lips. Of course he was a bear-minkman so it sounded a great deal like an angry roar. His front paws flailed wildly as he fought for balance, trying to backup to give the human room and get all four paws on the ground at the same time, but there was no chance. He was going to fall on her, there was no helping it. And the damage he might cause . . .

There was a sudden flash of blue light and suddenly instead of a golden haired girl in his path there was a large chunk of dead log. Bepo let himself crash back to the ground on top of it. The girl was safely sitting in a patch of grass some ten feet away, eyes wide in shock, the other humans seemed to be gone. Between the two of them was Law, spotted hat obscuring most of his face, with one hand extended and the other holding that absurdly long sword he was so fond of. Surrounding him and the girl seemed to be a dome of blue light, the girl and the now crushed log at opposite ends.

"Law, but how-"

"Really, Anne," the youth sighed, "I really wish you'd learn how to fight or something. It would greatly increase your reaction time." She frowned at not receiving a proper answer but Bepo was more concerned with his own fate. He backed up a step. Law was right, if he hadn't had to worry about falling on the girl he'd be in considerably less pain. The girl however misunderstood the situation entirely, Mistaking Bepo for a regular bear and Law's actions as intention to fight.

"Stop, Law, Stop!" she called out. The young man hesitated, glancing over his shoulder and she continued, now trying to make her voice soothing. "He's hurt, Law. Look at his leg, the bear is hurt! I don't think he wanted to hurt anybody. He's just trying to go someplace to hide. That's what they do when they get hurt. Am I right bear? You just want to go someplace quiet?" Law's expression was priceless. And Bepo didn't dare break character now. As much pain as he was in he knew what the plan was, if not how it had changed.

Bepo lowered his head and took another cautious step back debating making a break for it in another direction despite his fatigue. Law could find him later, they could work it all out then. She could have no idea he understood her, but perhaps if he was calm they'd let him pass. "You're right," Law took a deep breath and then reaching out a hand, stepped towards Bepo speaking calmly, "Here Bear-ya, let me take a look at your leg. Maybe if I can make it feel better you won't run around causing panic." Bepo suddenly understood the direction Law was going. He was going to complete the plan by "taming" Bepo. It was almost irritating. And being called Bear-ya, even temporarily, was almost insulting.

He took another step back intending to play along and the leg in question gave out. Bepo barely managed to save himself from crashing to the ground. Law continued to advance on him hand held out, still trying to speak soothing words. Bepo tried to play along and growled softly, all the while wishing Law would just hurry up and heal him already. Yet part of him was still blaming the man for the predicament he'd been in from the start, so as the hand reached slowly for his muzzle Bepo did the first thing that came to mind and bit him. Not hard, after all he didn't really want to cause any permanent harm and besides that he hated the taste of human blood, but firm enough to make a point. He simple grabbed the Law's palm in his teeth and held on tightly, careful not to puncture the skin.

Law let off a string of curses that cause the girl to warn him to watch his language, but in the ensuing alarm the sword was tossed aside as the youth let in go in attempt to use his free hand to pry Bepo's jaws apart, "Damn it! Bear-ya, let go. Anne, stay where you are!" the girl who had started to rush forwards to help her friend stopped in her tracks. Bepo could smell her uncertainty just as he could smell the youth's frustration. "Easy, easy," Law was trying to "sooth" him again despite the fact that his hand was still clasped in Bepo's teeth, "I'm not going to harm you, and I'm not going to let you go back to whoever did . . ."

"Why should I trust you," Bepo snapped, forgetting himself, giving vent to his frustration, and letting go of the hand all at the same time. Law looked as if he had been slapped. Both by Bepo's words and the Minkman's momentary lapse in judgment at speaking at all.

"Because I'm a doctor," Law replied stepping back and rubbing his hand, "wait a minute you spoke!" he added in catching himself before the girl could tell he knew Bepo. Bepo remained silent. "Now listen, Bear-ya,"Law continued thinking fast and running a hand through his hair knocking off his hat in the process, "if you can speak, you can reason. I am a doctor and as a doctor it is my job to help the injured. You are injured, so I would like to help you." Bepo barely managed not to retort with something he knew he'd regret. "just . . . just let me look at your leg." Law continued, "After that you can go wherever you like. I won't try to stop you." Bepo stared at him for another moment or two realising his best friend had just offered to let him out of the plan, and then deciding that he really didn't have any better options, lay down fully and turned on his side so his leg could be looked at.

Law gave out a low slow whistle, as he examined the injured leg. "Good grief! You have had it rough, Bear-ya," he muttered as he examined both the bullet wound and the branding burn not far above it. "No wonder you were running. I'd run too if I thought they were trying to catch me." He paused looking closer at the burn, "minor infection, easy enough to take care of, now for the other . . . yes, I can remove the bullet, but it's going to hurt." Bepo grunted but stayed still. Law seemed to take it for the permission it was. "Anne, if you'd be kind enough to bring me my medical case, I think it's over by the raspberry bush where Dasha-san tossed the picnic basket. Actually . . . Bring the basket too, Bear-ya's probably fairly hungry." Well at least if Law was going to feed him he understood how bad of a shape Bepo was actually in, the Minkman mused. And as the girl fetched the basket Bepo heard a low whisper of a very heartfelt apology.

"This was not supposed to happen this way, my friend. I'm sorry. I miscalculated." Bepo nodded in understanding. They were friends again, and he'd stick it out.

In a few minutes the girl had recovered a small brown messenger case marked with a red cross and a picnic basket that smelled strongly of chicken. Bepo attempted not to disgrace himself by drooling. He was hungry. The case was handed over to Law who pulled out several medical tools and then began doing something with his devil fruit power, Which Bepo had been warned nobody on the island knew about. Until now at least, the girl was watching fascination plain on her face. The picnic basket was brought to a spot near Bepo's head where the girl sat down, still watching Law, and began to pull out various items of food including an entire chicken. That chicken, Bepo reasoned, would feed eight or nine humans, he hoped she wouldn't be too disappointed if he ate the entire thing by himself. She didn't appear to mind, though she did seem to want the tear the chicken apart before she gave it to him. She talked a lot too. Telling him their names, and what island he was on, but he was so focused on the food that he barely registered a word she said (except to register that most of it Law had informed him of before the whole this crazy mess started) or what Law was doing with his leg. In fact the announcement that he was done rather surprised Bepo and he was about to swing his head around for a look when a whole new set of boot steps sounded on the hard packed earth that made up the road. Bepo knew the sounds of those steps, and he couldn't help but tense up and let out a low growl. Annette swung her head around and Law finished tying the bandage he'd wrapped on Bepo's leg in a matter of seconds.

"Now, now, ice-bear." The low voice belonging to the approaching figure started, "there's no need for that." He was a tall lean man with a long nose, bushy red hair half concealed by a navy blue ski cap, and a pristine navy blue suit. Even the man's boots had been polished. Bepo didn't know his name, he was simply to be referred to as the Master, even by his human companions. Behind him were several other men, all with guns leveled at the bear. The Master smiled, "though I must congratulate these remarkable children on keeping you calm. You are going to come with me now." Bepo felt a pulse of panic welling up in him, This was the man who had branded him, and he could ruin everything Law had planned on, but before Bepo could do anything Law was on his feet.

"No, I don't think so," Law murmured standing to face the men, walking forward to place himself between the two parties, and pulling off a pair of bloodstained white medical gloves," I'm a doctor and as far as I'm concerned this bear is my patient. I never allow my patients to go anywhere until I'm sure their condition will improve."

"The bear's condition?" the master repeated sounding startled, and Bepo was suddenly glad he's had the foresight to play sick. "What about his condition?"

"Infection of that rather curious brand aside, this bear suffers from fatigue and possible malnutrition, my best guess is his caretaker has forgotten to feed him the appropriate amount of meat, at the very least he hasn't eaten for several days," Law nodded to the chicken Bepo had demolished down to the bones, "and there is a bullet wound in his leg. Whoever fired on him was an excellent shot, hit the edge of the quadriceps tendon. That's a crippling blow for most humans. I'm surprised he made it this far in that sort of condition. Now, I have successfully removed the casing, but it will be several weeks before he can put any weight on that leg, and a good six months minimum after that before he'll walk without a limp. I'm sure you'll agree with me, Mister . . ."

"Drouillard, Drouillard Carson."

"Now I'm sure you'll agree with me Drouillard-ya that putting a bear in a cage and sailing across the ocean, especially into the Grand Line where that particular brand originates, does not bode well for a full recovery. I am quite sure your patron did not pay for damaged goods."

"Now see here, young man, as troublesome as transporting the bear is, and however much sense you make, I can not just leave my merchandise to sit on an island with some stranger without proper collateral."

"Without proper collateral?" Law's sudden smile was just as manipulating as the smirk The Master wore. "Now we understand each other."

"What if I bought him?" Annette suddenly spoke up handing Bepo a loaf of bread, which he devoured in three bites. Law and The Master both looked at her and The Master's cronies began whispering, "I'm serious, what if I bought him? Law, you don't have anything you could put up for collateral anyway, and I'd rather outright buy the bear then run the risk of somebody else's property disappearing." Law frowned his scent suddenly coming across as annoyed with something else beneath it, but The Master burst out in laughter.

"Well, you two are starting to grow on me. All right, better a guaranteed profit now then only a potential profit latter. Fortunately for you, girl, he hasn't been paid for yet."

"Hasn't been paid for?" Law questioned, the annoyance still sharp in his scent, "But the brand . . ."

"A bit of future advice, lad, when the people that brand represents make a request you take it as an order. In this case it's better for me to lose the bear altogether then to appear with it unbranded. But you need not worry about me. I always have a plan B It seems that I may make a double profit on this venture." He grinned and then named a price, which Annette dug out of the pouch hanging from her belt wincing at the very small amount she put back in, before he turned on his heels, motioning his men, and the whole party disappeared down the hill.

"I'd better run home and ask a couple men to bring a sled." Annette muttered. "You said he's not supposed to walk right."

Taking Law's nod for confirmation she turned on her heels and ran off the opposite way from where everyone else had approached. Law himself, sat down on a rock nearby and frowned again. "I can't believe she said that." He muttered and then was silent for a long time after, his scent fading in a breeze blowing the wrong direction for Bepo to pick up. Bepo was left to wonder in astonishment at how lucky they were things had worked out so well on blind luck.

"That was her, right?" he asked softly, "The girl whose father works for Doflamingo? That's the family you need me to spy on?" Law made no answer.

Bepo was just beginning to doze when he spoke again, "well Bepo, you mind telling me how you're feeling?"

"Better than I was," Bepo muttered not bothering to open his eyes.

"The bear talks!" a deep voice suddenly exclaimed and Bepo's eyes jerked open. The newcomer who stood downwind from him, the reason the new scent hadn't been caught, was a rather burly older man with a long ponytail, round sunglasses, and a narrow chin. If Annette hadn't been standing right next to him Bepo might have tried to flee, but he was hauling the promised sled, more a low wagon really, and seemed strangely comfortable around an ice-bear he had just learned could speak the human tongue.

"Who are you?" Bepo manage to ask though he was trying hard not to panic.

"Me? Call me Yamada Mumei"

Law suddenly burst out laughing, though Bepo could still catch a thread of sourness beneath the laughter, "that has to be both the most creative, and the most obvious, alias I've ever heard."

"But it is my alias all the same." The man smiled "I was hired to teach Lady Annette basic self-defense."

"It's about time someone listened to me!" Law exclaimed still laughing, "I've been suggesting that for a while now. Well I'm glad. But seriously your father hired a man who likes to be referred to as No Name? Well that was his prerogative I guess." The laughter trailed off and the frown returned. "We'd best get Bepo ready to travel then." The low cart was positioned next to the bear and there was another orb of blue light that abruptly surrounded the ten feet around the group. Bepo felt an abrupt shifting as he was somehow lifted with a crook of Law's finger, and then suddenly he was on top of the sled, as it switched places with some of the loose gravel Bepo had previously been lying on. The blue dome disappeared and the older man, Mumei, picked up the rope and quite easily began to pull Bepo down the road. Annette followed, but Law remained behind.

"Law?" the girl asked worry creasing her green eyes as she turned to look at him. "When did you eat a devil fruit? I won't tell. You know my father disapproves of those which is probably why you never shared, but when?"

"I need to go home and pack up my few belongings." He muttered looking at his shoes and refusing to answer, and then suddenly looked back up and met her eyes. A light breeze blew past and Bepo was finally able to pinpoint the sharp scent underlying Law's annoyance that had been present since before Bepo's previous owners had left. Hurt. "Anne," Law started softly but firmly, "in the future you are to leave my fortune, or lack thereof out of general conversation."

"What? You mean about you not having collateral? But you don't, I mean everything you earn goes to- well I'm not sure exactly but I know you don't have - Not enough to buy a bear - I don't understand!"

He sighed the hurt scent growing stronger though his face remain impassive, "never mind it's not important," and before she could say anything else he walked away.

Bepo had hoped to see Law again to thank him, his leg was already feeling better, but a detailed chart and instructions as to the care of Bepo's leg had been written out and delivered to the Elgar compound that night before dinner. It was then Bepo learned that Law had sailed out again with the morning tide. That, it seemed, was Law's habit. He'd come infrequently stay a day or so and disappear just as abruptly, but each of those visits were burned into Bepo's mind. He had his instructions and he would follow them until Law said otherwise, no matter how lonely it might get.

It was easy enough to see why Law had been upset about the money comment once Bepo actually got to see where Annette and Mumei lived. It was a large compound with three wings, multiple outbuildings and cottages, extensive gardens and (except for the orchard) the whole thing was surrounded by a wall. Mumei lived in a cottage on the grounds, but Annette lived in the main house. She brought Bepo around to the kitchen door, and with the help of several guards got him settled in front of the fire. Bepo quickly realized that there were very few, even among humans, who could afford to live in such luxury. Law must have felt she doubted his ability to earn a proper living. Or worse, did so unconsciously.

Bepo didn't have long to muse on the matter though. Soon enough Annette's father and the cook returned, the son of the island's governor working though the month's expenses with the woman in charge of keeping the entire household fed. The man stopped short at the appearance of a bear curled up in his kitchen with his daughter calmly feeding it apples. The woman fainted dead away.

By the time Law returned ten months later the household had adapted to the Bepo's presence, they'd made him into something of a cross between a beloved pet and a guard dog, and while Bepo was careful to appear as only a normal bear, as Mumei and Annette had agreed to early on, he looked forward to Law's visit and to finally being able to give a report.

Law seemed to be impressed with Bepo's progress, on both fronts, and amusement filled his scent when he learned that Mumei had been teaching Bepo to fight alongside Annette. "You said to make him exercise," the man grunted when Law had asked him why. And after a few more minutes of examination Law pronounced Bepo's leg completely healed.

"So you can take me home?" Bepo had asked, but Law shook his head. As with all cases of looking forward to a failed expectation Bepo's disappointment was severe.

"I'm sorry," Law muttered, "But there's more here to learn, Please wait a while longer. "

"I understand, I'm sorry." Sometimes Bepo thought Law was a little too driven by his promise to the dead.

"When" Bepo thought hard but decided what he was thinking was worth voicing, "when all this is over, you can come home with me to Zou. I'll still remember the way. From here it's almost exactly south, that way," and Bepo turned his head pointing his nose, barely noticing Law pulling a compass from his pocket and raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Alright," Law muttered putting the piece of navigational equipment back, "When everything is done I'll see your home. If it's still what you want. It could be years from now though."

"That's ok." He was patient, the bear-minkman could wait.

Law stayed on the island for five days that trip and while he seemed to spend most of it bouncing all over the place helping Tiberius with his duties as a physician, a good portion of his free time was spent with Annette and Bepo. One particular evening Annette had "borrowed" Mumei's map collection and the three of them pored over it with Annette pointing to various islands and Law sharing stories of the ones he had visited. The map collection's owner looked on the whole time as if preparing to rescue the precious articles from careless paws.

Bepo learned several things that visit. For one thing, It didn't matter what was going on, Law always called Annette "Anne". With other people she was Lady Elgar, or Lady Annette, or perhaps if they were close to the family simply Annette. With Law it was just Anne. Perhaps it was tolerated because Law visited so infrequently, but Bepo overheard Annette's father lecturing the young man the afternoon of his third day, that whatever happened he was to act with perfect manners the next afternoon during the ceremony and subsequent party. It was then Bepo realised it was Law's way of getting close to the family himself. It certainly made it easier to pass information when Law was allowed to visit on a whim.

That was the next thing Bepo learned, the exact nature of the island country's politics. It seemed that Annette's father had been chosen to succeed his father as governor of Krocylea. Bepo carefully asked Mumei what a governor was one day when he was sure no one could overhear him talking, thinking it must be similar to his home island's system of rule, and received a rather cynical answer in reply. "In its simplest form they are men other men put in charge of more men. It's their job to make sure the people of their island follow the rules, or at least appear to follow the rules, the king sets down. They are supposed to solve problems, and they are supposed to take care of the island"

"Like a king then?"

"Something like that, but infinitely more meddlesome."

From him Bepo learned that humans had a very screwed up idea of how the world was supposed to work. They made laws they didn't follow themselves, were unnecessarily cruel to those who broke them, expected preferential treatment, manipulated others into giving them what they wanted, forced people to work as slaves owning them in the same way they had wanted to own Bepo. He learned what his fate probably would have been had he not escaped the boat. He learned that Mumei had developed theories about Law turning pirate, which Mumei approved of but Bepo was under no conditions supposed to repeat, and he learned that the ceremony and party the household was planning were very important things and he was supposed to be on his very best behavior. No wonder Law wanted to attend.

The whole ordeal was, in Bepo's opinion, incredibly boring. Nothing more than a bunch of humans standing around talking to other humans, occasionally giving lengthy speeches which no one really listened to, and in general wearing their best clothes while attempting to appear far more important than they actually were. The only people who truly were important were Annette, her father, and the ambassador from Neritm, where the king ruled, who was in charge of bestowing the governorship. Even the ambassador wasn't that interesting, though there was lots of talk about "being of age" and "nearly ready." Bepo eventually curled up into corner intending to take a nap. It didn't matter if he missed anything. Law was there.

Bepo was soon after joined by Law, who had spent the majority of the event bowing and referring to everyone as lord and lady, running here and there on errands for Tiberius (who had been the primary person of the physician's practice invited), taking care of a woman who appeared not to be able to see, and generally playing the crowd until it seemed he had become something of a favorite among the people present. When Law eventually sat down next to him, he leaned his back against Bepo's broad shoulder. "I hate these games," He muttered. "It's these kinds of events that make me glad I'm a sailor." He closed his eyes relaxing against Bepo's fur, "everybody expects you to be less then you are and then the only impression you can make is of someone desperate to please." He grinned, "Makes one appreciate how simple life can be on the sea."

The next day was fairly lethargic. The ambassador, who had stayed the night at the compound, ate breakfast in the kitchen with Annette who was the first up. The two talked a great deal about her Great Uncle, the King, before Annette's father joined them. The ambassador finished his meal five minutes later, bid the family goodbye, and left. Annette and Bepo hung around the house while the staff cleaned everything up, and around noon Annette dragged Bepo outside and up the road intending to say goodbye to Law who was also scheduled to leave the island. They hadn't gone very far before they discovered he had been on his way to see them. Law had stopped along the rise where one could look out and see the entire city, and as they approached he sat down in the grass along the edge and motioned them over.

"Shouldn't we go down to the port?" Annette asked as she settled her crimson skirts around her.

"I can see the ships come in from here." He answered. "If I head down when mine arrives I'll have just enough time while they unload and resupply to get aboard before they leave port again."

"I see," she paused and bit her lower lip to stop herself from continuing.

Law looked over at her, his smile slipping into a puzzled look, "what is it?"

"I . . . I want to ask a question, but I'm afraid it'll make you mad at me."

"Go ahead." Laws eyebrows furrowed but with the wind coming from their back Bepo couldn't quite make out enough of his scent to figure out what he must be thinking.

"How . . . how long before you're done? How long before you can do whatever you want?"

"Before I'm done?"

"I'm not blind, Law. I grew up in a family of politicians. I can see you're up to something for someone, maybe that sea-captain you sail with, but frankly I don't care what it is. " Law frowned and she continued hurriedly, "I have made you mad. I . . . I was just thinking that if you could do whatever you wanted then . . . then maybe you could take me with you next time . . ."

Law's eyebrows rose high enough to be hidden by the brim of his hat and the confusion cleared from his face, "I'm not mad. You really want to leave?"

She nodded, "the only other place I've ever been was Neritm. When Mother died Pa moved us here and I've never been anywhere else. There are so many stories of all these wonderful places, and I'd like to see them. I thought that if you were going to be free to do your own thing soon then I could go with you before . . ." she suddenly blushed and looked at her hands, " . . . before they marry me off to some politician. I overheard Pa and the ambassador talking about it last night . . ."

"I see." He sighed, "Unfortunately, unless fortune smiles on me, it'll be a few years yet. I'm sorry Anne."

"It's alright," she gave a shaky smile, "It's alright. I'm fairly sure I have time. Besides, even if I could come with you I'd probably just be in the way as you study to become a great doctor."

"I thought you were a doctor?" Bepo jumped in suddenly wanting to preserve their cover and steer away from a conversation that could potentially expose them all. Beside, he could tell Law was growing uncomfortable.

Law laughed softly taking the out. "I still have a lot to learn. Bepo. There are illnesses out there nobody's figured out how to cure yet, and treatments I haven't mastered. I'm a proficient general surgeon for example, but when it comes to the human brain . . ." He smiled, "that's what I want someday, to be a great doctor, the kind whose name is known all over the word, to have mastered medicine to the point that I can cure even Leana-san's blindness, and perhaps to go even further then that . . . a doctor who can cure anything."

"What about you, Bepo, what dream to you have?" Annette asked softly, thoroughly distracted.

Bepo shifted so his head was resting on his front paws and he couldn't see either of their faces. "Someday," he began, "I'd like to just be able to be me. To not have to pretend to be an ordinary bear. To be able to walk on my hind feet and talk if I wanted too, and nobody would be surprised."

He suddenly felt Annette's arms wrap around his neck "I'm sorry, Bepo," she whispered, "I know it must be hard for you."

Off in the distance a black ship with a maroon streak down the side began to make its way towards the port. Law rose to his feet. "Well there's my ship I'd best get down there, Anne I'll bring you back some travel logs, Bepo anything you'd like?"

Bepo lifted his head curious; he had the feeling that bringing back travel logs was Law's way of apologizing to Annette for not being able to take her away. But something he could have? He didn't know so he offered up the first suggestion that crossed his mind "something about the stars?" and then thinking it was stupid, tried to take it back "I'm sorry that's too much"

"Nonsense," Law smiled. "I'll bring back an astronomy chart too." navigating by the stars, after all, was the key to getting back to Zou . . .

. . . Present

Bepo walked along to road to the Elgar compound with Law in silence for some time before it was broken by a single question from the man. As they approached the gate Law slowed his pace to remain out of earshot of the guards and muttered. "I assume Anne has followed her usual pattern and is awake?" Bepo was spared having to answer by the appearance of the women in question at the gate.

"Oh Bepo there you are!" she called voice full of relief and then recognizing his companion called out "Law, you're back!" she picked up her gray silk skirts and ran past the startled guards to stop, only slightly short of breath, right in front of them. Bepo could easily pick up the excitement in her scent mingled with the coffee and cinnamon that was usually her. "Law, I am glad you came! Have you been home yet? How long will you stay? It's freezing out here come in and get warm. Bepo your breakfast is ready."

Law chuckled softly and offered her his arm, which she took. "One thing at a time." He answered as all three of them walked back towards the compound, through the gate, and down the drive up to the front door. "I have not been home yet, everyone will still be asleep, and I plan to stay six months."

"Six months? Law, You'll be here for my birthday! Please say you'll come. You haven't been home for anyone's birthday for several years now. I noticed we've missed yours if only by a week. Twenty-four is a good number, I suppose you won't let us celebrate it?"

"I would prefer you didn't."

"Anytime someone tries to throw a party while you're here you duck out! Well I intend to celebrate mine even if you don't care about yours! It'll be close to when you need to leave again, but please come."

"Alright." Law muttered as he opened the door and held it for both her and Bepo. Law's voice was dry and somewhat evasive, but Bepo could tell by his scent the man was amused.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Annette's beaming smile could warm anyone, Bepo thought, as he lumbered into the front hall and turned waiting patiently for the humans, or at least Annette, to take off their coats. He wondered briefly what it must be like to have to wear a coat because he didn't have enough fur. Bepo shuddered at the thought and tried to pay attention to the conversation. Annette shrugged out of hers, revealing the creamy lace at her collar and sleeves, before hanging it on a hook and turning to Law who was frowning at the same lace.

"What?" she asked fingering it slightly, "I know it's expensive, but Pa insists. You know I'd put the money to much better use if I could." He nodded stuffing his hat into his coat pocket and she smiled in relief, "Law, your coat and gloves?" she reached for his hand as if to help.

The sudden spike of alarm in Law's scent was puzzling to Bepo, but the man only smiled. "No thank you," he muttered. Bepo could tell, if only by scent, that he was trying not to jerk his hand away "I'm afraid I've spent too much time south of here, the seasons are warmer the closer you get to the Grand Line, and this weather has me chilled," he gave a lighthearted chuckle.

Annette shrugged and turned to lead the way back through the house, "Come on, Let's go to the kitchen. Bepo, Cook'll have my hide if I make you any later for your breakfast then I already have. You know how she is about serving cold food. Law, maybe some tea or coffee will help?"

"Coffee sounds great."

Annette led the way followed by Law and then Bepo. They all knew where they were going, but Bepo was too big to walk beside anybody indoors without running the risk of knocking a painting off the wall, and he was quite sure that Law was just taking in the splendor that decorated the home. He always seemed to do that. Not because he was going to steal anything, Bepo was positive Law wouldn't steal anything, but because he liked to comment on what good the money could have done elsewhere though such comments were usually made only to Bepo and never where High-Lord Elgar could hear. Law had once told Bepo that is seemed the governor cared more for expensive things that anything else. Perhaps that was why Annette was always dressed up so fine. If she was dressed richly then her suitors were more likely to be rich and that was what her father wanted most for her. To continue to live the same style life she had grown up with. That and something to do with political alliances that Bepo didn't quite understand. Law did though. He remembered Law once referring to lady Annette as a prized flower to be sold off to the highest bidder. Bepo mentally shook his head. He would never understand human courting rituals. It was much better to choose a mate because you cared for them.

"I have a letter for your father." Law muttered as Annette pushed open the kitchen door.

"Pa's still in bed. You can leave it if you want."

"I'll wait, besides you promised me coffee." Law held the door as Bepo followed the two into the kitchen. It was a large room with gray, stone walls, windows overlooking the yard, a stove big enough to prepare several dishes at once, four different ovens, a fireplace containing burning embers opposite, and a huge scrubbed wood table in its center. In one corner, several feet from the door, was a large blue pillow that Bepo used for his bed. He had chosen that corner himself (no one had told him not too) the kitchen was, as Annette had said, the warmest room in the house, plus it always smelled of delicious things to eat.

Cook turned as they came in, greeted Law as warmly as she did every visitor, and then held a large, tin plate, more a platter really, of what seems to be a very fatty cut of beef and squash out for Bepo. Bepo carefully took the tray in his teeth before steadily carrying it over to his corner "I don't know what I'd do if he were a complete carnivore." Cook chattered as Bepo settled into his meal, delicately taking small bites (for a bear) and watching the others at the same time. There were days when no-one was looking that he'd eat at the table and use the silverware. "Fortunately he seems to like fruit and vegetables about as much as the rest of us . . ." Cook continued.

The conversation didn't stay focused on Bepo for long. Annette after a series of questions that might be interpreted by Law as prying, though Bepo knew she hadn't intended them that way, very quickly landed on the one subject in which Law would give her as much information as she wished. Travel. "I hear there are islands where it barely snows in the winter, and I hear there are islands where there is no winter at all, oh I'd give anything go see them!" she declared holding the coffee pot forgotten in one had as Law pushed his mug towards her. Cook frowned from her place by the stove where she had begun scrabbling some eggs. "Annette, are you going to pour the man his coffee or not?" Annette blushed and hurriedly filled his cup before filling her own. "Cinnamon?" she asked taking her place at the table and offering him a silver canister.

"No thank you I take mine black."

"More for me then," and she tipped it carefully and gave the side three little taps. It was always three taps. Bepo wondered absently if that was important.

Law smiled, sipped his coffee, and answered her question continuing the conversation. In asking after the places he had visited and what they were like she got not only what the island was like physically, plants, birds, mountain etc., but socially as well. Law was especially forthcoming if a particular island had any sort of unique medical techniques. Bepo tried to listen but his attention wavered. By this time his plate was empty and he was busying himself with licking the last of the beef's flavor from its surface.

He was just getting the last of it, causing the platter to scrape across the tile floor, when Annette's father walked in closely followed by Mumei-sensei. Mumei looked slightly surprised to see Law, and Bepo thought the older human male looked as though he was going to great the young man, but Mumei was stopped by a grunt from the Governor. "So, you're back."

Law rose from his chair, somehow managing to look as if it was what he had intended to do all along, and reaching inside his wool coat pulled out an envelope addressed to The High-Lord Elgar. "I was asked to carry this to you, sir. We met a rather, interesting, patron on our last voyage." The older man took it, ripping open the envelope, and pulling out the letter seemed to read it in a single glance. He frowned, but to Bepo his scent seemed pleased. A second later the envelope and letter both were thrown into the kitchen fire and a puzzled scent filled the room radiating from everyone present excepting only High-Lord Elgar and Law. Bepo knew something was going on, and that despite his expressionless face Law knew what it was, no doubt Law had taken a chance to see the letter himself before delivering it, but then considering humans' particular desire for keeping secrets Bepo figured it would be better not to ask. Not that he would when those who didn't know he could speak were around.

As the scent of burning paper disappeared with the last of the letter's ashes, High-Lord Elgar took a small silver case and lighter from his pocket. "Cigarette Law-kun?" he asked pulling a tightly rolled cylinder of paper from the case. Bepo wined in protect, he hated the smell of those things, but the Governor barely spared him a glance.

Law didn't even hesitate answering quite bluntly, "If you keep smoking those things you'll die."

"Everybody dies sometime," High-Lord Elgar roared with laughter, "but thank you for the concern for my health."

Law smiled and sketched a small bow, "If you'll excuse me, I should be returning home. I would like to see Master Tiberius and Leana-san before they hear I've arrived from some idle dockworker."

"Of course."

Law shook Mumei-sensei's hand, thanked Annette and Cook for the coffee, politely refused their offer of breakfast, picked up his rucksack, and then exited through the kitchen door into the garden. Bepo could see him through the window walking down the path around the corner. He resisted the desire to run outside after him just to get out of the crowded kitchen, but Annette's father was taking his cigarette back to his office along with a mug of coffee, Cook had picked up Bepo's plate and seemed to be cutting him another chuck of beef, and outside the weather had turned into a slow icy drizzle that Bepo was sure would change to snow.

Law turned up his collar against the wind, and pulled his hat down over his eyes to shield them from the rain that was now falling in considerably heavier sheets than its former drizzling state. Fortunately he was only a block from what he hesitated to call home. He had been at sea so long these past years that he was no longer sure he had a right to call it that, if home was based on residence, but it was where lived Leana-san and Tiberius-ya, and that he supposed made it home more than anywhere else.

He was relieved to find the door unlocked, even though the sign in the shop window read closed, and letting the it shut quietly behind him he left his now muddy boots on the mat in the corner and proceeded in his stocking feet. Turning from the shop into the kitchen he immediately noticed a rack of fresh baked scones cooling on the counter, and leaving his rucksack on the table with his nodachi, Kikoku, still sticking out of it, snatched one up and devoured it in three bites halfheartedly wishing it had been a basket of fruit instead, but being too hungry to complain about the bread. He really should have taken Anne's cook up on the offer of breakfast, he might have convinced the woman to make him a rice-omelet, but the entire time he had been at the compound he had felt as though he was dodging bullets. Mumei's knowing gaze, Lord Elgar's involvement in . . . well Law was too smart to even think it was what it appeared on the surface, Anne's over helpfulness leading her dangerously close to secrets she shouldn't even know existed. Law had to be grateful for the cold weather; it would be difficult to find an excuse to continually wear his gloves otherwise. He wondered how long he would be able to keep it up and hide the tattoos.

The voices in the next room distracted him from snatching another scone, and peeking his head through the doorway he immediately made out the figures of Leana-san and the housemaid, Rebecca. Leana-san was running her fingers over the braille covered pages of a book open in her lap, reading aloud what seemed to be poetry (Law had never been very good recognizing that sort of thing) while Rebecca worked on the mending as she rocked slowly in the rocking chair next to the window.

Law watched with a grin, as Rebecca's eye grew wide with shock, and hastily held his fingers up against his lips. Rebecca nodded and tried to pretend as if nothing had changed but the rhythm of the chair altered and Leana-san picked up on it immediately, that or she heard the sound Law's stocking feet made against the carpet as he slipped into the room, because she stopped reading.

"Tiberius is that you? It's about time you learned to leave your boots by the door . . ." she paused when he made no reply and looked puzzled for a moment, "Tiberius? Is something wrong?"

"No." Law grinned as at the utterance of that simple word she gasped and flew from her chair to embrace and run her hands over every part of him she could reach as if to assure herself that what she couldn't see was really there.

"Law!" she smiled almost looking past his face and running her fingers across his left cheek and onto his chin, "you're growing a beard?"

"A goatee," he corrected, "and it's good to be home, Leana-san . . ." but the trample of boots drowned out the next few words as Tiberius stalked through the kitchen and into the room.

"Tiberius, looks who's home." She turned towards the sound she obviously had no trouble recognizing.

At the same time Rebecca stood scolding from her chair, "Dr. Morris, If your apprentice can remember to leave his boots at the door after all these months away, I fail to see why you, who live here, can't! Now you've tracked mud all over the floor," she flung the mending into her basket revealing a slight rounding to her belly, "and it's getting rather hard for me to clean that sort of thing up!"

"You're expecting?" Law questioned stating the obvious as Tiberius had the grace to look slightly ashamed and offer to clean the mess up himself. "Last time I saw you you'd just been married. How far along are you?"

"That's what you get for staying away for months at a time, you miss things!" But Rebecca smiled at him, crossed the room to the kitchen, and began rummaging through a closet where the cleaning supplies were kept. "And I'm just past four months now." She called over her shoulder. Law looked over at the physician who was busy removing the offending mud soaked articles as Rebecca re-emerged from the closet holding a bucket and a mop. "As the pregnancy progresses my sister Clarissa will be coming here to help," she told him as she returned, swapping the doctor the cleaning supplies for the boots which she then took to the front door to sit next to Law's. "Are you familiar with prenatal care?" she asked returning the second time.

"Only in theory," Law answered when she returned.

"Then it's time we turned theory into practicality," Tiberius jumped in using his usual lecturing tone. "If you intend to practice on this island you must have a background of the basics and I'm afraid this really is part of the basics, along with pediatrics and basic illnesses. In a community this large you have no idea what might crop up . . ."

Law sighed, "I get it, I get it, I'll study whatever you give me."

"It's good to sea you can still take the role of student." This time Tiberius seemed to approve, which was rare, "Rebecca, you don't mind, do you?"

"If it means I know the man who delivers my baby? Of course not. You see, Law, as there is no hospital in this city, my attending physician will end up being whoever is available and there are several doctors around here who . . ."

"You're picky. All of my colleges are excellent practitioners." Tiberius boomed. Rebecca stuck out her tongue as soon as his back was turned.

"Well that's all very well," Leana-san jumped in before anyone could answer, seizing his elbow and pulling him over to the sofa, "But I want to know where this young man has been and how long he's staying. Will you manage to be home for the holidays this year?"


	3. Marines: The Man With an Impractical

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you to all the wonderful people who took the time to give me reviews. I hope this story can meet your expectations. And to the Guest reviewer who asked about Penguin and Shachi, you called it. This chapter's all about them.

Personal Theory Number 1: Penguin and Shachi worked together prior to joining Law's crew, possibly as marines.

Also, I have studied martial arts, and though I am no longer as active in that study as I would like to me, all references to such in this chapter are based on personal experience. I only wish I could link videos to show what the move is supposed to look like as words can't always paint an accurate picture.

 **3/2/18:** This chapter has been updated to reflect new information featured in SBS 84. No major story changes have occurred. One Minor character's name has been altered and some extra background added on Penguin and Shachi ;)

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

 **Marines: The Man With an Impractical Dream**

 _They say that in G-3 - the chicken's mighty fine.  
One jumped off the table - and started marking time . . ._

The boots of thirteen men pounded the pavement in unison. Twelve in the column, three men across and four long, and one running to the side calling the cadence. All were wearing the white and blue uniforms of marines complete with kerchiefs and ball caps.

 _They say that in G-3 - the hours are just right  
Start early in the morning - and work on through the night . . ._

The sun poured down from the clear blue sky overhead. An observant man might have been able to tell by its passage that the time was somewhere around o-nine-hundred, but the only times that mattered on the base were chow time, curfew, and whatever the schedule nailed to the bunk room wall showed. Unless a superior stated otherwise.

 **They say that in G-3 - the mail is so great  
Today I got a letter - it was three years late . . .**

Today, a superior had stated otherwise. The thirteen men passed a lone bench placed outside the base's main office, their boots pounding to the rhythm of their chant, the leader giving directions for another lap around the yard. Sitting on the bench was a single soldier, an open folder in his hands. He seemed to be poring over the orders included on the first page, in a somewhat shell-shocked fashion, part of him puzzling over how he had gotten to this point and part of him wondering why it hadn't happened sooner. His eyes narrowed behind a set of dark sunglasses as he pulled his ball cap lower over his forehead, further shading his eyes from the sun, as a light breeze blew through his shoulder length red-brown hair.

 _They say that in G-3 - the tents are waterproof  
You wake up in the morning - and you're floating on the roof . . ._

He was so absorbed in his orders that he failed to notice when the front doors of the office burst open. He leapt to his feet and saluted only when said doors banged loudly against the wall, barely keeping the folder's contents from flying everywhere. "Lieutenant Hodge, Sir, Master Chief Petty Officer Shachi reporting as ordered, Sir."

 _They say that in G-3 - the coffee's mighty fine  
it's good for cuts and bruises - and tastes like iodine . . ._

The chant faded as the running men moved further away. The lieutenant's thin mouth frowned at them, and then turning on Shachi taking in his immaculate uniform, perfectly tied kerchief, shined boots, and evidently finding nothing worth complaining about, his lips twitched upward in a smile matching the amused glimmer in his beetle black eyes. "At ease, Master Chief." Turning slightly and removing his ball cap from his dark skinned, bald, head, the lieutenant motioned for Shachi to follow before leading the way down the walk towards the dockyard gate, its flanking cylindrical towers easily visible in the distance. "Master Chief Morse and Warrant Officer Sims should be waiting for us there. Morse had morning wall patrol, would have gotten off five minutes ago, and Sims is on gate guard."

"Understood, sir."

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Master Chief? Senior partner is a huge responsibility . . ."

"With all due respect, Lieutenant, the Rear Admiral recommended me for this assignment and regardless of what I feel personally, I trust his judgment."

"Good answer." They were nearly there when they came across the two other officers of their party. Both saluted the lieutenant, and then fell in line with Shachi, following the lieutenant into the dockyard where he led the way to a ship unloading a number of passengers. These included three rather raw looking marines who had been shunted off to one side by ensign Kai, who was apparently in charge of the area at the moment, as other recruits were ordered to various locations depending on their papers.

"I believe you lot are Seaman Phelps, Seaman Turing, and Petty Officer Penguin?"

"Sir, yes, Sir." The trio chorused.

"Alright, Master Chief Morse you'll take charge of Seaman Turing, Warrant officer Sims, you'll take Seaman Phelps, and Master Chief Shachi, Petty Officer Penguin is yours. By now you should all know your jobs and the expectations. Officers take your junior partners and integrate them into your usual crew. The marines expect the best. I'm looking forward to hearing your progress. Dismissed."

"Thank you, sir!" everyone chorused this time, saluting and remaining at attention as the lieutenant walked away before they dispersed in random directions. Sims a short, stocky, blond haired woman led Phelps, a tall, wiry, dark youth, with her back to the gate. Morse, a tan skinned man of average height, with horn rimmed spectacles, led Turing a rather scrawny looking red haired lad who couldn't be more than eighteen, back to the cryptography office.

Shachi gave Penguin a good look over as the others walked away. He was a well-built young man with a jaunty smile and a rather carefree attitude, despite still standing at attention. He hadn't changed at all.

"At ease," Shachi snapped and the youth immediately relaxed his posture his smile growing even wider and his eyes flickering briefly to a point over Shachi's left shoulder. "Follow me." Shachi motioned taking the chance while turning toward the gate to see where the petty officer had been looking. He suppressed a sigh. Apparently the man had noticed a rather large group of female recruits departing the transport ship, and they in turn had noticed him. It seemed by the looks the petty officer was getting that the women liked what they saw. Shachi sincerely hoped this sort of thing was not going to become a problem. If he discovered that Penguin had become what the girls called a heartbreaker . . . well he'd deal with it when, and if, it became an issue. Seven years now seemed a very long time ago.

Waiting just long enough for Penguin to pick up his bag, Shachi lead the way back into the main grounds of the base. "You ever been here before, petty Officer?" he asked looking back over his shoulder.

"No, Sir," came the prompt reply. And then once familiarity could be dropped, "It's good to see you again."

"It has been a while," Shachi answered, "Will you be okay taking orders from me?"

"You always gave orders, it's no different now. And I did wait to join the Marines, now it's a matter of protocol."

"We'll forget the past then, I think we both wanted to be new men anyway, after that day…" If took him a moment to find his train of thought gain.

"It'll be easy enough to learn your way around. You see that?" Shachi asked pointing at a tower rising from the grounds ahead of him, its pale gray stone stenciled with a large G-3 that should be visible from miles out on the ocean. "That's what we call the Vice-Admiral's tower." The building's main door opened as an off-duty ensign left the premises, sat down on the bench Shachi had occupied only fifteen minutes earlier, and unfolded a newspaper. "It's the tallest part of this base viewable from even the darkest back-alley. If you get lost, head there and you should be able to find where you want to go. It's also the main administration building. Orders, memos, records department, commissioned officer's offices; they're all located there. Right next to it is the medical unite, and behind it are the training yards." Shachi glanced over his shoulder again, please to discover that Penguin was still following and seemed to be soaking in every word he said, though he was shifting his rucksack around to his other shoulder. "However, I think the first place we should head is the barracks," he continued, "That'll give you a chance to stow your gear and straighten up before chow time. We rotate on shifts around here. For the time being you and I are stationed with squad eight of platoon five, and they've drawn first watch this quarter. That means we eat first and get off duty first, but it also means we'll be up well before the crack of dawn."

"Understood, sir."

"Good," by this time they had reached the yard in front of the tower and it was here that Shachi took a sharp right down a short set of concrete steps. They walked downhill a ways before coming upon a grid of long white two-story buildings set up in several columns of four deep and two long divided by several main pathways. He turned up the center path of the third column in, and led the way to the very last row, entering the building on his right, from a door at the base of the short end. Stepping into a rather large room containing several couches and a large bookshelf overflowing with a variety of volumes, he looked around to find they were the only ones there. Other things were scattered about but Shachi didn't pay them too much attention, everything'd be cleaned up by the next inspection anyway. "Common room, though most don't use it," he said matter-of-factly and continued through to a small hallway with a set of stairs against one wall and a closed door across from the one he had just entered. "Toilet and showers," he said pointing his thumb at the closed door, "you'll be expected to take your turn cleaning them just like everybody else."

"Like being back at boot camp." Penguin's comment was said with a smile and Shachi chose to ignore it, instead going up the stairs.

"Beds are up here." He stated emerging into a long room the same size as the one below. Five single occupancy beds stood against each wall with a small chest of drawers next to each one and a trunk that could be rolled beneath. Some had pictures of loved ones or a book set on top the drawers, others had hung posters above their beds. A row of windows, set in three of the four walls, let in plenty of light. Everything was as tidy as if some housewife had been over it with a fine-tooth comb. "Yours is the one on the end." Shachi muttered pointing to the only empty bed available, the one closest to the stairs. Penguin moved to put his stuff down but Shachi held out a hand to stop him turning him to face the back wall containing two doors instead of the windows. "You see those two rooms? Mine's the one the right. If I'm here the door'll be open. The room on the left belongs to Master Chief Andrews. His door is always closed. If you find you need anything you're probably better off asking me. And a word of caution, when Andrews says jump you had better say . . ."

"How High, Sir."

"Exactly." Shachi nodded satisfied. Penguin seemed a quick study, he'd do ok, "I'll give you a few minutes to straighten your rack, and then we'll head to the mess." And leaving the younger man to get situated Shachi entered his own small room, leaving the door open as promised, and settled down at the small desk placed against the far wall. He reopened the file he had been carrying and pulled a page from the bottom. The Petty Officer's record was impressive. Full marks on basic training, top of his class in school, and a promising note from his hand to hand combat instructor stating that Penguin showed an extraordinary aptitude for the art, perhaps Shachi could convince the petty officer to join him in the dojo for a sparring match. It was almost strange learning about his old friend's life after Swallow Island this way. He proceeded to study the file for the very few minutes it took for Penguin to settle in.

A short while later Shachi led his new partner into the G-3 mess hall. Various marines belonging to the first shift were milling around, filling their plates from the kitchen's buffet line and comparing notes on the day's work. Shachi was relieved to see that though Penguin followed him, the man seemed to have no intention of becoming a suck-up. He smiled at those who passed him and made small talk with those who said hello, all marking an intention to fit in and adapt to this new life and not waste his time on pleasing the senior officers.

Once their plates were full Shachi led the way over to a table full of faces familiar to him, people he wanted Penguin to meet, people Penguin would in all probability end up working closely with in the days to come. Some were men with whom they shared the barracks, others were members of other squads belonging to their platoon, and a few, a very few, were members of platoon three, not direct comrades, but friends none-the-less. "Hey," Shachi stated as he approached the table placing his tray down in an empty seat. Penguin took the spot across from him. "This is Petty Officer Penguin." They all nodded and Shachi started making the round of introductions starting with the highest ranked. "Master Chief Pierson, " a thin faced man with brown hair and a beak of a nose, nodded, though he did not smile, "He's squad one leader for platoon three. Chief Hawkins, Petty Officer Boone, Petty Officer Roy, Petty Officer Boarz," Boarz, a short blocky built man with close cropped blond hair and a grin that could send a man running for the hills, reached across the table and shook Penguin's hand. "Seaman Cliff, Seaman Rodriguez, Seaman Yamamoto . . ." Shachi continued the introductions as several more joined them and claimed the remaining empty seats.

"So you're Shachi's new junior partner," Petty Officer Rodgers, a tall blond with legs that seemed to extend forever, stated as she took a place between Boarz and Shachi, "I must say I'm pleased to find that you're quite the looker!" Pierson sighed took one more bite of food, and then left the table abruptly, no doubt heading back to work. The man never seemed to stick around when the women were present. It was as if he objected to the very idea that a female could become a competent marine. Although, Shachi mused, if you weren't already clued in it might take some time to realize it. Shachi had known the man a year before he had figured out even enough to theorize, and long after before he had any concrete evidence to call his theories fact. It probably didn't help that Rodgers seemed to insist on catering to the stereotype of the ditsy secretary with her short skirts and high heeled stiletto boots.

"No romantic relations with officers in the same command chain." a crisp voice snapped as copper skinned Petty Officer Ikkaku Ayame strolled up taking the empty place next to the man in question, "You should know better Lien." Ikkaku Ayame was Rodgers' complete opposite. Petite framed, with a no nonsense attitude, any man who even attempted to sweep her off her feet once was quickly shot down. As far as Shachi knew no second attempt had ever been made.

"But he's not in my command chain, Soge-hime," Rodgers purred. Shachi noted that Penguin was very deliberately studying his food. Ayame pursed her lips, Shachi rather enjoyed looking at that pout, and tucked a stray lock of jet-black hair behind her ear before making sure her braid had not come unraveled. "Just because you enjoy pretending to be one of the boys doesn't mean we all have too. I at least enjoy a date now and then," Rodgers continued, "and a date with a handsome man one can dress up for, is even better!"

"Just keep in mind that I can shoot an apple off your head at one-hundred yards, I have yet to see you hit the center of a target at five." Ayame's dark eyes glinted.

"Ladies please, you'll confuse the rookie!" Boarz jumped in, "Lien here works as the personal assistant to the Vice-Admiral himself. Ayame, however, is a member of what we here at G-3 like to call Black Alpha. That's squad one platoon three. They specialize in reconnaissance and, on occasion, tactical interference missions."

"I'm sorry?" Penguin paused with a bite of potato halfway to his mouth. "what does that. . ."

"I'm a sniper." Ayame stated in her usually blunt manner.

Penguin nodded in understanding while Shachi tried to focus on his own lunch. Boarz continued talking, his own food apparently forgotten. "The petty officer can position herself at the top of the vice-admiral's tower and shoot an apple off the head of a recruit in the dockyard, without anyone being the wiser . . ." Penguin raised eyebrow and shot appraising look at the women beside him which only prompted a laugh from Boarz. "You doubt me? We can always bet on it."

"No one's shooting apple's off anyone's head today." Shachi interjected pushing rice around his plate.

"What? you don't want to watch a real marksman at work? I think we all know about your shooting record." Boarz roared with laughter and several of the others joined him. Shachi forced a smile. Oh yes, his shooting record left plenty to be laughed at.

"I just don't want to fill out the paperwork if she misses," he muttered.

"I never miss." There was an almost offended note to her voice.

This time it was Roger's turn to smile. She fiddled with a silver hoop earring she wasn't technically supposed to wear and leaned forward. "Oh what about that time on chapman's hill when . . ."

"That doesn't count." Ayame cut her off. "I'd like to see you take a clean shot with Rumyard's Doberman's teeth in your leg!" Rogers leaned back in her seat frowning, and sensing another argument in the air Boarz quickly shoved the conversation in another direction.

"What about you Penguin? You any good with a gun?"

"Don't like guns much." Penguin muttered trying to swallow his food and answer the question at the same time.

"What? How'd you become a marine if you can't shoot?" Ayame looked positively flabbergasted.

"I didn't say I couldn't shoot I said I don't like guns much."

"I don't get it," Boarz grumped

"Aww, Shachi, don't tell me you've already managed to corrupt the kid." Ayame shot him an accusing glare. It seemed since his stationing at G-3 they had already had this conversation in circles several times over, but this round Shachi was pleased to discover he might actually have an ally on his side.

"Well look at it this way," Penguin began, "Any moron can hold a gun, pull a trigger, and if they're close enough hit what they're aiming for. Most pirates know enough to take the gun from the marine before they get shot if at all possible. It ups their chances of escape."

"Your point?" Rodgers tapped her manicured fingernails on the tabletop.

"I prefer weapons that can't be taken from me." This time Penguin met the woman's gaze and held it. She looked away first.

"Which are?" Ayame probed genuinely interested, in the conversation not the man.

"My own hands and feet," he answered.

"No wonder they assigned you to Shachi!" Boarz exclaimed there was a chorus of laughter but it was the friendly sort and this time Shachi didn't mind being the butt of the joke, but Boarz wasn't done with Penguin yet. "No offence, kid, but you don't look like much."

Penguin shrugged, "a point in my favor . . ."

"I think you're bragging." And he pushed everyone's dishes to one side clearing a spot and placing his elbow on the table hand open in obvious invitation.

"That's not going to prove much in relation to skill." Penguin said a skeptical look on his face.

"It'll prove what I need to know." Boarz grunted.

"Which is?"

"Your strength." Penguin sighed but switched placed with Ayame and grasped Boarz's outstretched hand. Shachi watched as, face impassive when compared to Boarz's grin, Penguin held steady when Ayame called start and Boarz pressed with all his might face turning red with the effort it took to move Penguin's arm a third of the way down. It looked as though the match would be over in a matter of seconds, but suddenly his arm stopped. One minute, two minutes, three minutes passed and Penguins arm was still at the three quarter mark, his face only showing the barest sign of strain. Sweat dripped from Boarz's brow and he let out loud grunt putting everything his had in to one final push. Penguin's hand slipped a quarter of an inch. Then slowly Penguin pressed back inch by inch eyes narrowed in concentration, until the back of Boarz's hand rested on the table top.

"I may have spent some time training under Beorgis "Budoshi" Dwayn currently of G-1," he said by way of explanation. Shachi let out a low whistle. The guy was famous for modernizing the Marine style of hand-to-hand combat. "I've also had a lot of practice turning wrenches in the boiler rooms of some of Vegapunk's new steam ships . . . I'm trained as an engine mechanic. Though the same set of skills can be applied elsewhere not just a steam ship." The remark was made offhandedly as if turning wrenched was supposed to account for his ability, but Boarz, a ship building enthusiast, took the invitation for a change in conversation.

"Ha, steam ships," He scoffed, "those things may be flashy, but they're slow, never get anywhere on time . . ." Boarz sent a glance as Shachi, but he refused to rise to the bait.

"That may be so, but they're more reliable then a sailing vessels, more durable too." Penguin answered calmly.

"What about submarines." Boarz pressed further. The man had a bit of an obsession with sailing vessels and was highly biased. Shachi continued to say nothing, curious to see how Penguin would handle this challenge.

"I've worked on a few submarines their tactical advantages are highly superior . . ." and food forgotten Penguin launched into a highly detailed explanation of submarine maneuverability and stealth capabilities. Shachi only shook his head when Penguin moved on to explaining engine configurations and their effects on said maneuverability as Boarz's eyes began to take on a slightly glazed look. "You don't really care how they work huh?" Penguin suddenly paused noticing he'd lost his audience.

"Nah," Boarz grunted, "if Vegapunk says it works it works, if one of his people says it works it works, and if a mechanic says it works it works, but maybe Shachi'll get it."

"He started out as a propulsion engineer," Petty Officer Roy, a lean red-haired man finally jumped in having followed the entire conversation and remained silent up until this point, "if ya want it to move he'll make it move, right, Shachi? If you're gonna go anywhere out here ya want a man like him aboard!"

"Really you've sailed in the Grand Line? Do you have any good stories?" Penguin's eyes seemed to light up at the prospect and Shachi suppressed a sigh. And here he'd been hoping that Penguin would not be the type of young man to have his head filled with adventure.

"This may be the Grand Line, but we are Marines. No fooling around on random islands we sail to our destinations with an eternal pose. No thrill on Reverse Mountain, we cross the calm belt in ships with sea stone lined hulls. No adventure here, we follow orders."

"Always need to put a negative spin on things aye, Shachi?" Boarz chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess lately I do. Sorry to ruin the mood rookie."

The weeks passed, following the same sort of schedule Shachi had been use to previously. They spent their mornings on the docks working with the dock crews checking and repairing the generators, engines, props, and propulsion systems of any steam ships or subs that came in, afternoons were spent checking maintenance logs, and Saturdays were a hodgepodge of necessary tasks. Sundays were free. The only change in his routine was that now he had Penguin to look out for as well as himself. In a way he had always had an eye out for Penguin. Technically speaking it should have been the other way around being that Penguin was nearly a year older, but things had never felt that way. Perhaps the difference in their upbringings and penguin's overly idealistic nature. As the weeks went by things grew less awkward and they had begun to slip back into the patterns of their childhood. Shachi very quickly remembered that Penguin had an incredible work ethic and it wasn't long before he found himself trusting the man more than any of his previous colleges. Both as a friend and as a soldier

Penguin was a good man to have as a colleague too, Shachi finally decided, if a little over enthusiastic on some points. He did have a tendency to jump into a project with both feet never-mind the landing, always had. That sort of thing was going to get the man in trouble someday and Shachi only hoped he be close enough to pull him out. In addition, Penguin also had some idealistic opinions about the marines and their mission of justice. He seemed to think that given the chance everyone on base would always do the honorable thing, simply because they had chosen to become a marine. Shachi just hoped Penguin could hold onto that sort of optimism. He had lost his own confidence in the marine code of justice long ago. But for Penguin at least there was hope. It seemed he idolized none other than Rear Admiral X Drake. "Someday I'd like to sail with the man," the petty officer admitted one afternoon as they were sorting through the maintenance logs of the newest arrival to port. "Imagine what that would be like? Sailing the world with a man who always seems to know exactly how to help the people he comes across." If there was a marine who could continuously hold his head up with pride because he had accomplished his orders while maintaining his own internal moral compass according to Penguin it was Drake. Shachi had the greatest respect for the man based on everything he had ever heard, and he had to admit that if Penguin was going to choose an example to follow it most certainly could have been worse than the Rear Admiral.

It was the fifth week after Penguin's arrival on base, that Shachi was reminded once again of one of the disadvantages to being assigned part of a partner duo. While he and Penguin may be currently assigned to squad eight, neither was truly a permanent member and a single piece of paper and five minutes could see them both on the next outbound ship.

He had been called into Lieutenant Hodge's Office one chilly afternoon for the purpose of discussing exactly that. Well that and Penguin's extraordinary adaptability from sub duty to land base. "He's doing quite well sir," Shachi was saying perched on the edge of a wooden, ladder backed chair in front of Hodge's desk. "While I'm sure he misses sea duty, hell I miss sea duty, he's got the routine down, knows what he's doing, very rarely needs help and is not afraid to ask when he does . . ." Just then there was a racket outside, a sharp knock, and before Hodge could answer the door flew open. Several people piled into the room including Petty Officer Ikkaku Ayame, and Master Chief Pierson. They were followed by Jr. Lieutenant Stalker, the current third platoon leader. By the way the thick-lipped, stocky man was staring at the floor Shachi had serious doubts that position would last very long. With this many people in the room the tiny office was beginning to feel like the inside of a sardine can. Shachi started to rise to leave but Lieutenant Hodge motioned for him to remain seated. The way his dark brow furrowed over equally dark eyes and the lamplight glinting off his bare head was giving him an increasingly menacing air as he stared pointedly at Stalker.

"What?" he said softly after a very long moment of silence.

Stalker hastily pulled out a handkerchief scrubbed the sweat from his round forehead before stuffing the article back in his pocket. "It . . . It would seem that Master Chief Pierson took the initiative to scrub mission Seahawk.

"What?"

"Seahawk, sir, it's been scrapped." Stalker stammered.

"May I ask _why_." There was no mistaking that tone of voice. When Lieutenant Hodge grew polite somebody was in a world of trouble.

"With . . . with all due respect, sir, mission protocols . . . Some here aren't cleared on the specifics just their own post . . . I uh . . . may I recommend . . ."

"All those below the rank of Master Chief may be dismissed." Hodge stated calmly. "Will that satisfy your reservations?" Knowing it wouldn't and that what was currently happening was quite probably above his pay grade, Shachi once again started to rise intending to follow the rest out of the room. One again he was waved back to his seat.

"Shachi, stay."

"But sir he's . . . he's not cleared!" Stalker stammered his voice starting to take on a rather whiny tone no doubt due to nerves.

There was a flash of anger in Lieutenant Hodge's eyes as he stood from his seat, placed both hands palm down on the desk, and leaned forward. "Might I not remind you that it was you who interrupted my meeting with him," Hodge's glare sent Stalker back a few steps, "and I see no reason to send the one person who is ACTUALLY DOING THEIR JOB, out into the hall to wait while I reprimand those who aren't."

"I - I'm s . . . sorry, sir."

"Now," Hodge very pointedly settled back into his seat, "Tell me what happened." Stalker opened his mouth but Hodge had already shifted his gaze to the other responsible party in the room. "Pierson, as it was your decision _you_ may explain."

"Ah, well," Pierson began his deep voice echoing slightly around the small room, "Conditions were unfavorable. It's true that Petty Officer Ikkaku had acquired the target, but the target was in a crowded area surrounded by both his guard and a considerable portion of the island's civilian population. Add in the unusual gusting wind conditions and the approaching storm that would have made our escape difficult . . ." Pierson kept abnormally still his gaze fixed on the corner of Hodge's desk.

"Did you believe you or any of those under your command were about to be caught?"

"Ah, no."

"Was there a place you could have taken shelter from the storm, perhaps carry the mission out after it passed?" Hodge leaned back in his chair his anger at Stalker evidently fading as he turned to the task at hand.

"There was a possibility but the petty officer . . ."

"I see . . . Your problem was with the sniper not the mission. Was she injured?"

"No."

"Did she complain about the conditions, indicate there was anything to give her difficulty, was there any reason to think she might be unable to complete the task then or on any other day?"

"None of that, Sir."

"Then," the lieutenant tapped him fingers together as he rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, "there must have been some reason you returned without achieving your objective?"

"I," Pierson hesitated but Hodge raised and eyebrow and the master chief continued perhaps in spite of his own better judgment, "I would have preferred to have someone else take the shot, sir, and no one else on the team at the time had the required skills."

"You . . . wanted someone else to take the shot." Lieutenant Hodge frowned

"Yes, sir."

"Why?" Lieutenant Hodge leaned forward in his chair and the Master Chief met his eye for a brief moment before looking back at the floor.

"I wanted to spare her, sir." He grumbled a tone in his voice that Shachi might have mistaken for concern had he not known the man well enough to tell when he was faking. It occurred to him that this was why the Lieutenant had wanted him to sit in on the meeting and just in case he very pointedly readjusted his sunglasses. The Master Chief was hiding something.

"Spare her?" Lieutenant Hodge questioned, flicking his eyes to Shachi for a very brief moment and giving the tiniest of nods. "from what?"

"Sir, I . . . I had reason to believe that the petty officer knew the target on a . . . ah, personal level . . . and ah, being female . . ."

"Being female? Are you implying that you wanted to spare Petty Officer Ikkaku from completing her assigned task because she was female?"

"No, Sir. I only meant that being female she is more likely to dwell on the emotional aspect of the job and not get over it as easily." Shachi very pointedly studied the floor. He was having a hard time believing this conversation had gone where it had so quickly. If this wasn't an attempt at a misdirect he didn't know what was. Pierson may be biased towards female officers, but only a fool would admit as much unless . . .

"You don't like female officers, do you, Master Chief Pierson?"

"Professionally or personally, sir?" his voice was toneless at this question. So at least he was smart enough not to want to appear to be disrespecting a senior officer.

"In fact this is not the first time you've pulled a stunt like this is it?" Hodge's voice was growing harder, his frown deeper, it seemed that Pierson had successfully steered the conversation away from the failed mission. Shachi wondered briefly if he should even attempt to intervene, but one look at the lieutenant's face gave him enough resolve to stay silent.

"No sir. . . yes, sir . . . I mean, Ah, I think they lack the instinct to kill and there is no guarantee to keep them out of combat situation, sir."

"I respect that, I really do," Hodge nodded, and Pierson seemed to relax slightly. "BUT IF I EVER" Lieutenant Hodge's hand slammed down on the desktop causing even Shachi to flinch, "learn that you've prevented an officer from doing their job BECAUSE they were female, I'll keelhaul your hide until you wish you could beg for mercy."

"I, ah, yes sir. I understand, Sir."

"Dismissed!"

Pierson practically ran from the room and Shachi moved to close the door behind him before returning to his seat, "You think he was lying Master Chief?" Lieutenant Hodge muttered reaching into his in-basket and pulling a page from the bottom of a stack of papers.

"If he wasn't there was something he was most definitely not saying."

"You, know him well then?"

"Not well, just a very long time . . .we've been stationed in many of the same places over our careers, and ah we may have been assigned as roommates on more than one occasion."

"Keep an eye on him for me," the lieutenant muttered, "let me know if it seems he's up to something - Don't spy, Just watch." He heaved a sigh as he looked at the paper in his hand and Shachi waited. "This," Hodge held up the page, "is a request for transfer from Petty Officer Ikkaku Ayame . . . as for why, she lists 'irreconcilable differences with another officer'. It seems like now I'm going to have to approve this request. Keep an eye on her for me too. The way things are going here it may take until the end of the year before I can get this pushed up the command chain." He gave a nod and settled back in his chair. "Dismissed, Master Chief, we can continue our original conversation another day."

"Yes, Sir."

It was the dead of winter before Shachi managed to report anything to the Lieutenant, and even then what he had was observational only. Nothing of any substantial interest, and nothing to imply that there was any genuine wrongdoing. Oh Pierson was quieter more observant, snapped more, and seemed to be developing some serious micromanagement issues, but there was nothing to prove he was hiding anything. As for Ayame, she too was quieter, but this Shachi attributed to the fact that she was beginning to look as though she hadn't slept in weeks. Even Penguin commented on it, but she just brushed the remarks aside and muttered something about an increased workload. Her impending transfer was common knowledge now, though not why (command had certainly taken their time approving it) and though she seemed nervous, Shachi didn't know enough to say if it was simple nerves at the prospect of a new position and base, or something more. Finally he decided he'd had enough waiting and it'd be better to just flat out ask.

He found her in the dojo one Saturday evening during an open session, going through footwork exercises (though had expected to find her on the firing range) and, after changing into his gi and hakama, he joined her on the mat and resigned himself to the pummeling he was no doubt about to be subjected too in exchange for answers. Ayame was always in a better mood when he "let" her win.

"Need an Uke?" he asked softly, going through warm up stretches at the edge of the mat. She smiled fatigue apparent in her eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want to throw?"

"I'll get Penguin in here tomorrow afternoon and toss him around a bit."

She chuckled, "I don't know, that one's pretty strong . . ."

"I'm faster." He smiled tossing his sunglasses aside so they rested on top of his gym bag at the back of the room. He pulled a hair band from his wrist and quickly tied his hair back settling into right hanmi and waiting as Ayame stepped into her own place on the mat, her back to its center where she could easily throw him without risking sending him flying through a nearby window. The Dojo was large. It had to be to accommodate a marine base of this size, and though it was an open session and there were no classes going, there were still several other groups on the mat. It was always better to be one end or the other leaving space for everyone else to run, roll, or fall as needed. He looked around the square, wood paneled room, noting that all of the exterior doors and windows had been opened despite the chill outside, and then back at Ayame. "What did you have in mind to work on?" He asked wondering what attack to start with.

"Grabs, holds, escapes," she shrugged. "Most of the time people want to work on strikes and kicks and things. You know Tsuki, kotegaishi, Yokomenuchi shihonage that sort of thing. It's more fun I know. But if you're willing I'd like to start with Ushiro kubishime kokyunage and progress from there."

Shachi nodded and when she presented her left wrist he attacked from the side. Running at, well if not full speed at least a decent one, he grabbed the offered arm cross handed and swung around intending to put Ayame into a choke hold, but no sooner had his right hand touched her collar bone then he felt the tiniest of tugs at his elbow. In a single step to the side, away from his hold, she'd taken his balance and spun him around so that he barely had time to think before he was slammed to the mat and left staring up at the ceiling. In that single second of thought he managed to fling his arms out into a break-fall. The moment Ayame had stepped away Shachi jumped back to his feet. He grinned at her. Learning to fall had perhaps been the single most important thing he had ever been taught. Ayame shook her head at him. "Good to know you can handle the abuse. Again?" Shachi rushed her a second time.

Shachi had to admit that when Ayame said abuse she meant abuse. She had him attack her harder and faster than the usual pace and at five minutes in he had already broken a sweat. By twenty minutes he had requested a water break twice, and by forty-five minutes he was panting heavily. Usually they would have taken turns attacking each other when practicing something this repetitive, but Ayame seemed to be lost in her own zone and Shachi didn't feel much like complaining, though after a while he did have to call for a pause. After observing her mood all morning and her seeming focus on effect over precision, which was entirely unlike her, he knew something was going to have to be said. That and he needed a chance to catch his breath.

"Can we switch gears a minute," he panted checking that his hakama was still properly tied, "maybe do some hold escapes for a while? I need a breather." She nodded and relaxed in to natural stance. Choosing his words carefully, and knowing that the grunts, thuds, whacks, and ki yells issuing around the dojo from other practicing marines would cover the sound of their conversation, even if he didn't bother to whisper, Shachi approached Ayame's back and wrapped his arms around her biceps clasping his hands and pinning her arms to her sides as he spoke, "I'm a little worried about you." She grunted and sifted her weight forward pulling Shachi across her back with some effort but curling her shoulders and creating a space between his hands and her chest. "You seem to be practicing with the actual intent of using this on someone out there," he continued nodding towards an open window.

"We're supposed to be able to use it out there, that's the whole point." She snapped as she wriggled her own hand up through the gap between his arms and her body, and grasped the top of his hand, wrapping her fingers around the edge of his palm.

"That's not what I meant." He muttered as she used her shoulder the push the arm she was grabbing up over her head, "Something's bothering you, it's as if you expect to be attacked." She said nothing only slid away bringing her freehand up to join her other and twisted his wrist into a rather painful Sankou. He had to tap three times before she let up, and even then she didn't let go, rather she pointed his palm at the floor and dropped her hands leading him into a forward slide. Shachi grunted as he hit the mat but didn't resist as she kept hold of his arm and pulled it into a formal pin.

"You're right," she muttered as she bowed over him. "Let's do the other side and then maybe head to dinner?"

"Of coarse." He answered hoping this meant she was still going to answer the question.

Fifteen minutes later Shachi was waiting for Ayame by the main door of the Dojo having showered and changed back into his uniform. He didn't have to wait long, about thirty seconds later she re-appeared from the women's locker room braiding her dark hair, gym bag over one shoulder, and looking hesitantly over her shoulder down the hall. All Shachi could see was Master Chief Pierson rounding the corner to enter the Dojo.

"Ready?" Ayame asked and preceded Shachi through the door. He followed in silence for a few minutes before she began speaking again. "To answer your earlier question, for the past couple weeks I haven't been able to shake the feeling of being constantly watched, sometimes followed."

"Have you reported it?" Shachi asked a note of concern in his voice.

"What do you think I'm doing now?" Shachi winced having momentarily forgotten that he was the senior officer. She looked at him, "anyway I have no proof that anything's wrong. I've never actually caught anyone following or staring, and nothing's actually happened. So there's really nothing to be done."

Shachi frowned, "When do you transfer." He asked after a moment's thought as they reached the concrete steps near the vice-admiral's tower and continued up them on the path that ran past the main building and towards the mess.

She sighed, "week from today."

"And is anyone from this base going with you?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Then, then for the next week I'd say not to go anywhere alone, and if the feeling persists once you've reached your new post . . ."

"Seek counseling . . . Yeah, that's exactly what I was planning on . . . Hey, is that Penguin? Why does he look so down?" Less than ten feet straight ahead of them, exiting the tower, was Penguin two separate pages in hand glancing repeatedly from one to the other, face frozen in an expression of shock.

"Petty Officer?" Shachi called knowing that for the moment the previous conversation had been put on hold. "What's up?"

"I . . ." Penguin turned and took a deep breath before handing Shachi the pages in his hand. "Have you seen this? Just rushed from HQ. I was in reception talking to Lien when it arrived." Shachi took the pages his own eyes widening in surprise as he saw their content.

"Oh, so petty officer Rodgers has gotten her claws into you after all?" Ayame quipped, but her eyes were drawn down as Shachi held the papers so that she too could see. She fell silent.

Staring up at them from the center square of a freshly printed wanted poster was none other the Rear Admiral X Drake. Former Rear Admiral, Shachi supposed it was now. The second notice was a bulletin of information for all bases. The marines couldn't have their men finding out the information from the morning papers after all. No telling how the reporters would butcher this story. Still the bulletin was nothing more then a list of facts and some minor speculation. Fact: Drake had defected. Fact: Several marines under his command had gone with him. Fact: Drake had commandeered a ship. Fact Drake had killed several men during the escape. Fact several ships had been damaged or sunk in the attempt to apprehend him. Fact: X Drake now flew a pirate flag. Speculation: Drake had been planning the incident for some time. On the back of the notice was a list of the dead and wounded.

"I'm supposed to put this copy on the bulletin board in the mess hall." Penguin said softly beginning to lead the way to the building in question as Shachi and Ayame followed, Ayame still reading the flyer as she strolled along. "Additional copies will be posted in all barracks buildings, and main boards in the offices."

"Shachi only shook his head letting out a slow whistle. "So much for your dream of sailing under the man," he said finally. "Not unless you want to become a pirate yourself."

"I'm sorry," Ayame muttered, "I know how much you admired him."

"But I don't understand why? Why would he change sides?" Penguin shook his head in disbelief and Shachi sighed, the only answer he could think to give not exactly a pleasant one.

"Perhaps he discovered the marines weren't what he believed them to be." He clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "Come on. Lets get those posted and then hit the town. I'll buy you a drink."

Much later in the evening the two men could be found sitting at a low table in a rather crowded bar located near the center of the town that sat just outside of the walls belonging to G-3. It was a large square room sporting wooden paneled walls with red painted trim, and wrought iron lights suspended from the ceiling that filled the room with a low golden glow. With a bar along one wall, pool tables and a dart board along the back, and a raised platform for a band in the opposite corner with a dance floor in front of it, the Black Sheep had something for nearly any patron who chose to enter the premises. At the moment Shachi was perfectly happy sipping his fourth beer of the night. The sun had set, and most of their companions had gone off to seek out other activities. Pierson had just left to head back to his barracks where he claimed he had paperwork waiting. Boarz had been pulled into a game of pool with some members of squad four. Petty officer Lien Rodgers had taken one look at Penguin's inebriated state and pulled a much more sober seaman onto the dance floor. Roy was chatting up some blond a few tables away, and Ayame had begging off much earlier in the evening claiming she was going to take an early evening and get some much needed rest. Shachi had made sure she had left in the company of seaman Ronni Yvette who he knew lived in the same barracks.

"I still don't understand," Penguin hiccuped; he was now on his sixth. "What did you mean the marines weren't what Drake believed them to be?"

Shachi put his own cup down and mused pensively, when he spoke the words were slightly slurred though completely rational. "Maybe what he believed was right and that what the marines say is right are two entirely different things. Maybe he grew tired of always having to second-guess his orders, whether they were meant to help people or move the one who gave them up the political chain. Maybe he was frustrated with trying to discern his superiors' motives. Maybe he'd had enough and wanted to follow his own moral code for once so . . . so he quit." Shachi paused and then snatched up his mug and drained the rest in one long drink. When it was gone he held up the glass shouting, "barkeep, one more!"

He had just finished his own sixth when the sound of shouting from the back of the room broke out. Shachi turned to see Boarz shaking his pool cue under his opponent's nose. From the gist of the conversation someone had taken an illegal shot and Boarz was none too happy about it. Shachi may have been impaired, but he could still see that this situation was not going to go anywhere good any time soon. "Come on," he muttered to Penguin as he rose from his chair, "We'd better intervene before Boarz decides to hit somebody." As if he had spoken a prophecy Boarz decided to hit somebody.

With a very awkward sort of delicacy the man set the pool cue aside while simultaneously planting his other fist in his opponent's short ribs. Shachi didn't wait another second; hauling Penguin to his feet the two shoved their way through a now cheering crowd in an attempt to reach Boarz before the large man could inflict too much damage on his already injured opponent. The two of them knew Boarz's strength and temper even if no one else did, and when they finally reached the scene of the fiasco it was just in time to grab their friend before he could land a punch perfectly capable of dislocating the other man's jaw. It was then that the bouncers appeared.

Seconds later the three men found themselves hauled bodily across the room, Boarz shouting the whole way that the other man had cheated, and thrown out the front door to land on their hands and knees on the pavement which was just beginning to be coated in a light dusting of fresh snow.

Let's go," Shachi muttered picking himself up finally understating why the bar always insisted drinks be paid for in advance. "I don't want to be here when they chuck the other guy out," and picking his hat off the pavement he settled it back on his head and began to lead the way back to the barracks.

It wasn't a long walk, but it was late enough and cold enough that Shachi found himself spending that time staring up at the cloudy sky as tiny flakes floated down, wondering if anything else was about to go wrong. Again it seemed Shachi had some form of premonition. No sooner had the three of them made the main gate then the sound of running footsteps could be heard approaching and soon after a figure appeared around a corner up ahead. Shachi gawked and exchanged looks with the guard who had just handed him back his ID. The other was looking over Boarz's. It was then that the shot rang out. The figure dodged to the side as a small cloud of chipped cement sprayed up in the space it had occupied only moments before. As they dodge they ran through the glow of a streetlight and Shachi gasped. "Ayame?" he called out, "Ayame what's happening!"

She waved her arm in a very obvious get away gesture, "Get down, get down, get down!" her shout floated towards them as she veered towards the gate no doubt intending to make it through and put the stone tower between herself and whoever was shooting. He meant to duck back but in that moment another figure appeared. It was too dark and they were too far away to see clearly, but the motion of the second person bringing a rifle to their shoulder was unmistakable. They fired a shot ran forward several paces and fired another. It was rather like passing a shipwreck. Shachi knew he should be doing something else but he couldn't help but watch. He felt two sets of hands grab him and forcefully hauled him around the corner. When he looked around he found Penguin and the gate guard staring at him concerned.

"Boarz and that other guy made it inside the gate house," Penguin whispered loudly, the shock of the event having apparently sobered him considerably.

"Hedricks should have gotten to the den den mushi by now." The guard muttered, "re-enforcement should be on the way." Another shot rang out and Shachi winced.

"We don't have time for that, let me have your gun, Seaman."

"But, Sir . . ."

"Shachi I don't think . . ."

"Your gun, Seaman, now!" The young officer reluctantly handed over the weapon and, checking for a round in the chamber, Shachi knelt and peered around the corner. Ayame was fifteen, maybe twenty feet from the gate now, but as she presented a clear target in the lamp light the person trying to hit her, also closer, would have an easier time finding their mark. Shachi raised the scope to his eye. He could feel his hands shaking, he was no good with guns and he knew it, but if he could just buy some time . . .

Ayame was feet from the gate, the shooter had paused beginning to raise his own weapon. Shachi squeezed the trigger on the borrowed rifle as she passed him.

The figure jerked, spun and staggered, the gun clattering to the ground feet away. Seconds later Boarz and the second guard burst from the gatehouse and ambushed the assailant wrestling them to the ground. Shachi handed the rifle back to its original owner and rushed forward, Penguin hard on his heels. He could hear Ayame panting for breath behind them, but though he knew she was leaning against the wall shaking, Shachi was far more concerned with who he had shot. He groaned when he saw the culprit. He really should have seen this one coming.

"You lack killing instincts too!" Peirson laughed at him through gritted teeth from where he sat on the ground cradling a bloody hand that seemed to be missing the upper portion of his last two fingers. He was held on each side by Boarz and the guard.

"No, I'm just a terrible shot." Shachi muttered as running feet announced the arrival of the extra men that had been called for when this whole incident had started.

"You're also drunk sir," Penguin offered almost helpfully.

"I don't know Shachi," Boarz muttered giving Pierson's shoulder a rather vengeful twist, " you shot the gun right out of his hand that's pretty good for being inebriated."

"I was aiming for his head."

"What," A voice roared, "is going on here!" it was fortunate Shachi did have alcohol in his system. If he hadn't the sound of Hodge's furious voice might have stripped him of his courage and sent him running for the hills. It took only seconds for the whole matter to be explained to him and when it was clear that the Lieutenant understood, well it was surprising that Peirson had enough courage to hold the man's gaze.

"Why?" that one word conveyed more disappointment, displayed more loathing, and showed more desire for truth, that half a dozen speeches could have combined.

Pierson took a deep, shuddering breath, but answered. "Ah, well, she knows too much," he grumbled through the pain of his injured hand. "The Seahawk target, she saw his face, probably figured out that I scrapped the mission to let him get away." Shachi wasn't too surprised at that revelation. That possibility had occurred to him. "Ah, Her transport ship was supposed to be destroyed enroot . . . but that idiot Drake had to defect." This fact did surprise him.

"I don't understand what does Drake have to do with . . ." Penguin started but lieutenant Hodge raised a hand to cut him off.

"Nothing, but he destroyed the ship that was supposed to do the job during his escape . . ." Pierson's breath was growing more labored. A medic had arrived, but it was apparent that Hodge wanted answers before anyone received medical treatment. "That left only me to . . . to cover things." "But I didn't know . . . I never would have . . ." Ayame whispered and Shachi turned to find her frightened eyes fixated on the man who only minutes before had been trying to kill her.

"Shachi might have if he had asked you who the target was. . ."Pierson spat, "he's smart enough to put two and two together.

This time it was Shachi's turn to protest his brain reeling with all the little details he should have seen. "But I didn't, I was preoccupied with her . . ."

"Fear that she was being watched?" Pierson's smile was rather nasty, "If Drake hadn't defected, well, everything would have gone perfectly, wouldn't it." Pierson's eyes were beginning to glaze over.

Hodge reached down and grabbed the man by the kerchief, "why?" he hissed, "Why all this to cover the escape of one man from the Marines' watch?"

"Because." Pierson smiled, "he was needed alive. Orders from the revolutionary Dragon." And with that Pierson lost consciousness. Lieutenant Hodge cursed kicking a stray rock out into the yard, Shachi knew just how he felt. At the mention of The Dragon he felt his own stomach lurch. How was it possible that he had known the man for so long and still missed this?

"Get this man a doctor. Petty Officer Ikkaku, get yourself checked out. Shachi, come with me. The rest of you get back to whatever- the-hell you're supposed to be doing." And with that Shachi found himself being marched all the way to the vice-admiral's tower up to the third floor and into the lieutenant's office.

"Sit down, Master Chief."

"I'd rather stand sir." Shachi didn't know what it was but there was something about being mostly drunk, thrown out of his favorite bar, watching a friend nearly be killed, and then shooting a man he'd known for years, that made a man feel like he needed a bit more control in his life. It was this perhaps that made him exchange glare for glare with the lieutenant.

"Perhaps you can clarify for me what just happened out there!"

"You know as much as I do, Sir."

"Do you know what he meant when he referred to the ship X Drake destroyed?"

"No idea, Sir,"

"You're rather uncooperative tonight." The last was said with a sigh, a rhetorical remark, but Shachi answered anyway.

"Yes, Sir."

"You're being insubordinate Master Chief!" Hodge finally shouted at him.

"I'm drunk, Sir."

"Then you can chill in that seat until your sober enough to answer my questions in an appropriate fashion. Preferably before the higher-ups get involved. SIT DOWN, Master chief."

Shachi finally sat as Hodge left the office slamming the door behind him. It wasn't long before he grew bored and at the sight of a newspaper on the lieutenant's desk Shachi grabbed it deciding he might as well read while he waited as anything else. From the centerfold fell a stack of wanted posters and Shachi cursed as they scattered all over the floor. Heaving a sigh he reached down to collect them. One looked vaguely familiar but he was too drunk to place it, his eyes barely registering that across the bottom in bold black letters were the words Surgeon of Death.


	4. Transfers and Shifts in Perspective

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** I've made some edits to the first two chapters, mostly typos and some left overs from the original version. I also found and added in a missing paragraph in chapter one (where Beckett gave Law his name). Ah the problems of copy and past :D haha

I know this chapter is late, life catching up with me, but the next will be up sometime this week, if not tonight, to make up for that.

As always thank you for reading, and enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

 **Transfers and Shifts in Perspective**

"Surgeon of Death!" Law suppressed a wince as the words echoed throughout the front room of the tavern. He very pointedly kept his eyes on his bowl of half eaten curry, stuffed his small notepad in his pocket, and tried to ignore the conversation as the front door opened with the jingling of a bell and a sudden blast of cold air. The dead of winter on Krocylea always brought with it, biting winds, freezing temperatures, and an enormous amount of snow. One thing by itself would have been bearable, but all three weather conditions combined served only to drive the residence of the city indoors. Today was actually reasonably tolerable, meaning the sun was out and the wind was coming only in short gusts. In fact there were actually people out on the streets this afternoon. He had even seen Anne tramping through the snow her arms loaded with several packages from the local seamstress, while Bepo bounded ahead, dashing through drifts, and looking much more like an overgrown puppy then a full grown bear-minkman. Muimei followed the pair a pace behind. Law was pleased to see Anne wasn't wandering around on her own. In fact he had very rarely seen her without some sort of guard since his return. None of them had noticed him watching through the window.

Other people were taking advantage of the decent weather too. Law, after a morning spent making house calls, treating several head colds, and preparing medicine for several returning clients (while Tiberius visited the outlying farms) had decided to treat himself to lunch away from home. He had been pleased to discover that yes it was possible to enjoy a meal without a plate of bread being set before him with a reproachful look when he refused to take a piece.

The tavern's other patrons included Lionel, an elderly balding man who insisted on sitting at the bar and complaining loudly that cold weather made his joints ache, a young couple in the back corner who seemed to be planning their wedding, and a group of rather rowdy young men in their late teens who had pushed several tables together and were heatedly debating the current trade rout of the merchant fleets verses passenger ships, though the argument had progressed rapidly to the rising trend toward piracy in the North Blue. It was these last that Law was trying to ignore, unsuccessfully.

"I'm telling you," one lad banged his mug on the table, "The pirate you're forgetting about is the Surgeon of Death!"

"And I'm telling you," his neighbor interrupted, "that due to sheer technicality that one doesn't count. He's part of Beckett's crew and Beckett being the captain, the Surgeon doesn't count."

"But how can he be considered part of Beckett's crew," a third jumped in, "when he doesn't even seem stay aboard the same ship? There're reports of him bouncing all over the place, probably working out deals between Beckett and other pirate captains, and he hasn't been seen at all for at least three months! He's not part of the crew. He's more like an intermediary, a middle man."

"See, see!" the first piped back up, "besides if he didn't count because he wasn't a captain, then why has the World Government issued a wanted poster?" Law couldn't help but glance over just as the youth pointed to a board by the front door where a series of wanted posters hung. There, second in from the right just above one belonging to X Drake, hung his own.

It was extremely fortunate, Law mused, that the photographer had failed to catch his face, or perhaps that he had noticed in time to cover it. He _had_ been acting as an envoy for Beckett, and the ship he'd been on had been attacked by marines. Law had gotten involved, and mid battle had noticed a camera being swung around to point in his direction. He'd turned his head and put his left hand up to shield his face, but apparently the marines had thought his tattoos a distinguishing enough mark not to go for a sketch instead. They had forgotten to factor in the fact that in North Blue everybody wore gloves, especially in winter. Law glanced at the back of his gloved hand and smiled, between winter gloves and surgical gloves his hands were always covered and considering the weather on this island, nobody thought it odd. The other blessing of the wanted poster was that his hat had been pulled low shielding his eyes. It was the same hat he was wearing now, but there were hats similar to it all over the country. Between the hand and the hat the only bit of his face showing were the piercings in his right ear, but earrings were easy enough to take out so there was no cause for concern. Still . . . Beckett had not been pleased that even that much had made it onto a wanted poster. At the time Law had been under strict order to keep out of sight.

"8,000,000 ," one of the boys whispered, "and they don't even have his name. They must want him pretty badly."

"Idiot," the third chimed in, "8,000,000's chump change compared to some of the others out there."

"I've heard," the original speaker whispered loudly leaning forward in his chair, "that he performs medical experiments on the people he captures."

"You know," another put in, "I read an article several weeks ago that suggests he harvests the organs of his victims, in case a crewmate needs an emergency transplant!" Law sighed, it seems that the newspapers were extrapolating stories from hearsay and rumors, and had, once again, gotten the entire situation wrong. "The article also said that he'd eaten a Devil's fruit that lets him change things any way he wants them." The teen continued, "or at least anything within a certain range. It didn't say what the range was though." Law raised an eyebrow, though his hat hid the motion. It seemed the papers could still get some things right, provided one could read between the lines. He'd have to be extra careful with his powers, and hope that none of these boys could put two and two together and come up with four.

"I heard," the first started again, "That he works for the Revolutionary Dragon!" Law scraped the last of his curry from his bowl, and set the empty vessel aside motioning for the waitress to bring him his bill. Perhaps they weren't that smart after all. "That the only reason for his working for Beckett is because Beckett has eyes and ears all over North Blue, and the Dragon intends to utilize that network for himself."

"That's the worst load of bosh I've ever heard!" his companion interjected. Law had to agree. "How could Beckett get spies all over North Blue! That's like saying he's got spies in the marines!" And chalk another point up for stupidity, Law sighed. He'd had enough. Rising from his chair he placed the required sum of money on top the check, and strolled over to the table where the young men were lounging. They all grew silent and looked up at his approach.

"What do you want old man?" One of them snapped.

Old man? Well if he was old then Lionel at the bar was ancient. "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and thought I might as well correct a few misconceptions." Law could feel the eyes of the other customers turning to him. Even old Lionel stopped complaining about his knees and twisted to watch.

"Which are?" the apparent leader of the group demanded readjusting the black fur hat on his head.

"I take it none of you are sailors?" Law smiled. One muttered something about his uncle's fishing boat but their attention stayed on him. "The first is this. Beckett does in fact have a network of agents operating throughout North Blue, and they are hidden so well that you could eat a meal in the same room with one and never know it. Nor would I be surprised to hear of one hidden within the Marines. I might also caution you, that while we are a part of the kingdom of Neritm, Krocylea is still technically considered part of Beckett's territory and it would be wise to watch your tongue while discussing him. One of his followers might overhear and decide to make an example of you. The only thing worse would be to insult the crew of Donquixote Doflamingo."

"The shichibukai?"

"One and the same."

"And the second misconception?" the young man's gaze was challenging.

"The second? Your information is flawed." Law cracked a smile as their eyes widened in surprise. "The Surgeon of Death, as the government has chosen to name him, does not sail around committing mass murder or causing mass havoc and destruction as the newspapers have implied."

"Then why do they call him the Surgeon of Death?" came the testy reply.

Law paused but launched into an explanation, his better judgment warning him against divulging the whole truth, but a partial truth could be just as bad. "He is a ship's surgeon by trade . . ." he started only to be interrupted by another young man.

"So he kills his patients?"

"No," Law stated bluntly. "It's very rare that he actually kills anyone. What he does is far worse." They looked at him skeptically and Law sighed. He really should have stopped himself before getting involved in this.

"Imagine if you will, losing both hands and feet and then being left to make your way in the world. Or perhaps he takes your eyes and ears, or maybe your tongue so you can't report what happened. Imagine a whole ship's crew separated from various body parts in a space of minutes and then left to drift on the open sea hoping that one of them is in good enough condition to retake control of the ship before a storm strikes. Or perhaps he picks them off one at a time while the rest try to figure out where he is. Imagine, if you will, that no one is immune. He's struck down chore boys just as willingly as captains. He's not called the Surgeon of Death because he kills his victims, but because he leaves his victims wishing he had." Law didn't explain that the devil fruit powers he was known to posses kept his victims alive, or that an intelligent victim might be able to reassemble his body. He didn't mention the piles of still living jumbled up bodies he left behind for the victims to sort through and recover their own, or the parts he intentionally scattered to the wind leaving their owner to know they were out there if they were daring enough to look. He didn't mention the severed heads left to watch their bodies walking around on their own, but then he didn't need too. The partial truth being more frightening than the whole, the look on the youths' faces was one of mingled fascination and horror. Law had made his point.

They sat there in silence staring at him and Law's smile grew. He turned pulling a piece of paper from the top of the small notebook he kept in his pocket, and took several steps where he left it on the bar next to Lionel who winked. The older man actually had gotten the point of the whole conversation even if the lovey-dovey couple in the corner did flinch when Law glanced their way. "Rub castor oil into the affected joints before you go to bed," Law told the Lionel pointedly, "And I've written down a recipe for a tea that should help with the inflammation. Drink it twice a day, and come see me at the end of the week." Lionel nodded and took the page.

Law walked away, exiting the tavern and heading home, another thought circulating through his mind. Someday they would not call him the Surgeon of Death because he left his victims wishing for it. They would give him that name because he had become master over it, or at least the kinds of death that took lives before a person reached old age. Someday it would be a title of awe and respect, not one of fear. Except for one man. One whose time should have been up long ago.

Time seemed to pass quickly on Krocylea. Perhaps it was the fact that Law always seemed to have more than enough to do, or perhaps it was the fact that he was facing a decision he had no desire to make, but after days of caring for patients, making medicine, and studying every book Tiberius could throw at him, after weeks of the same routine and wishing he had more time, Law realized he had very little time left. The tail end of winter was fast approaching and he had been on Krocylea for four and a half months. Nearly five. He had no more clue as to that specific piece onf information he sought than he had upon setting foot on the island, and truth be told he hadn't really put much effort into seeking it out. He would have to soon, however, and if the calendar on his bedroom wall didn't press home that time was falling short, there was the fact that Rebecca's pregnancy had come nearly full term.

It was very early in the morning when Law felt someone shaking him awake. Well before sunrise and Law found he was grateful for the added dark as it gave him the opportunity to hide his tattooed hands beneath the sheets. "What?" he groaned gazing up into the stern face above him.

"Get up, I need your help." Tiberius rumbled before turning to the door and heading back down the stairs. It took Law only a few seconds to find cloths, pull on some surgical gloves and run, in his socks, down the stairs after the man wondering what sort of catastrophe could have occurred at this hour that would cause the physician to finally ask his assistance.

There was not, as Law had feared, a patient waiting in the front room in need of immediate surgery. Rather a nervous boy of about fifteen, bundled up against the weather, stood in the main shop peering at everything through eyes that looked ready to spill over with tears at any second.

"A fever's taken the Marlow farm." Tiberius said hastily attempting to button his coat and pack a medical bag at the same time. "I'm taking all the standard supplies we currently have with me. I need you to prepare more and fill the second traveling case. There's a list there on the counter. Law nodded as he read over the contents, an easy task, but time consuming and one that would take a practiced hand to complete. "When the case is full send it back with the boy."

"You don't want me to bring it?" Law asked the urgency of the situation waking him up. The list of things he was reading was nonspecific to any illness, meaning the man probably had only a vague idea of what to expect.

"No. If this is what I think it is you've never been exposed, and I can't get it a second time. But if I'm wrong . . . well there's no need to risk both of us." Law nodded and began pulling various jars off the shelf preparing the work area for the first of the serums he needed to create. "I'll be back when I can," Tiberius continued, "but with the weather the way it's been the past couple days, don't worry if I don't return tonight." He was out the door a moment later stating something about leaving the boy's horse at the inn's stable, and Law was left to work in silence . . . well almost.

"You get any sleep last night?" Law questioned the depressed looking youth who by all appearances was about to doze off where he was standing.

"Not really, sir," came the quiet reply.

"There's a cot stored in that closet." Law muttered nodding at the far end of the room. "Pull it out and get what rest you can. It may be several hours before I'm finished."

With a brief interruption only when Leana-san poked her head into the work area inquiring after Tiberius, Law worked quietly for most of the morning. He mixed whole batches of some things in order to restock the shelves the physician had cleaned out, while making only the desired proportions of others that lost potency the longer they were stored. The sun was well above the horizon moving towards its noon height and he had just woken the boy telling him to get ready to leave as he filled the last pocket of the case with carefully packaged cotton swabs and bandages, when the front door burst open and a very rushed looking, pale skinned, man stood framed in the doorway letting a chilling breeze rush past him into the room.

"In or out, Pedar ," Law stated calmly, "But close the door."

"Rebecca's gone into labor," The man blurted eyes wide with excitement.

"As I gathered from your disheveled state. Now, come in and close the door." He placed the last item in the case, zipped it shut and handed it off to a very grateful looking teen, who, cradling it to his chest, rushed past Pedar out the still open door, closing it softly behind him. Law kept his back to the room and quickly switched his gloves for a fresh pair careful to keep his hands out of sight before he snatched his own medical case up onto the counter and began filling it with all the items Tiberius had recommended he take should he ever be called to a delivery.

"It's early," the man rambled, "the baby wasn't supposed to come until two weeks from now!"

"It'll be fine," Law reassured him, "How far along are the contractions?" Pedar answered and Law nodded satisfied that there was still plenty of time.

"Where's the doctor?" Pedar demanded.

Law frowned, "You're speaking to him."

"No, not . . . I meant . . ." Pedar stumbled over the words and Law smiled relieved that Pedar had not meant the question to sound as insulting as it had.

"Tiberius-ya is at the Marlow farm. It seems the entire family has come down ill. I'm afraid you will have to be satisfied with me. Unless, of course, you would like to send for somebody else."

Pedar sighed, "Rebecca was very determined to have one of you two . . ." he paused _, "have_ you ever delivered a baby before, Law-kun"

"No but I've studied the methods of several noted physicians, and Tiberius-ya is satisfied that I am up to the task."

The frown Pedar gave him was expected, "but no practical experience?" the man questioned a note of concern in his voice, "Have you ever even helped with a birth before?"

"There is a rather astonishing lack of pregnant women upon the high seas." Law signed wondering when exactly Pedar expected him to have gained such experience. "It seems that expecting mothers and sailing very rarely agree with each other." He finished packing the case and reached for his boots.

"What if something goes wrong and she needs surgery." Pedar protested.

At this Law smiled. "I am predominantly a surgeon, if that happens everything will be fine." Pedar started to protest again but Law held up a hand to stall him. "As you have already stated, your wife has asked for either myself or my instructor. At the very least I can make her comfortable and you can hope that by the time she goes into full labor Tiberius-ya will have made it back from the farm and you will have no cause to further doubt my abilities." Leaving the other man to stand mouth open in shock, Law slipped into the other room, informed Leana-san that she would be alone in the house until Clarissa (Rebecca's sister and temporary replacement) arrived, and then, swinging his coat about his shoulders and pulling his winter gloves over the surgical ones he was wearing, opened the front door and stepped out into weather that was just beginning to storm.

"Well?" he asked looking back at Pedar, "are you coming?" and seeming suddenly to recover his wits the father-soon-to-be followed Law out into the snow.

-:-:-:-

Penguin sighed at he looked up at the blue sky above him. He knew that this time of year most islands in the four seas would be getting spring snow, but here at G-3 the freezing weather didn't last long past sunrise. Aside from the dead grass on the lawn it was a perfect day. Some of the men from Squad two had even set up a slack-line between the barracks buildings and he had been hoping to join them, but his free time had been cut abruptly short when Lieutenant Hodge had called them into his office. When the lieutenant called you ran. Or at least that's what the Master Chief said. At the moment Penguin was staring at the back of the man's head as they rushed up the path to the vice-admiral's tower. Master Chief Shachi was an excellent Marine, and a good man, but he had his flaws, and yes, Penguin considered perfectionism a flaw. Humans were imperfect beings, and if one couldn't own up to their imperfections how were they going to learn to do better. "A mistake was," as Beorgis-sensei used to say, "only an opportunity to learn where to improve." In Penguin's mind perfectionists were the type who instead of taking the opportunity to learn and moving forward, dwelt instead on the mistake. Not that the Master Chief always did that, but the past few months he seemed to be. Penguin had often heard the other man muttering under his breath that he should have seen Pierson's betrayal coming. Penguin couldn't see the point. Pierson's prisoner transport ship had been sunk by pirates some weeks ago, and even if the man had survived there was no way he'd be able to bother them now. That and Petty Officer Ayame Ikkaku had been transferred soon after the gatehouse incident. According to reports everything was how it should be. Each day brought enough trouble of its own and there was no point in worrying over what couldn't be changed.

It wasn't long before they stood in Hodge's office, Penguin positioned about a foot behind and to the right of Shachi. No one had told them to sit. The lieutenant himself stood staring out the window hands clasped behind his back. "Shachi," the man started, "you once told me you missed sea duty, Now you have a chance to go back. I want you to take Penguin with you."

"Sir?"

"Rear Admiral Hawke has requested you for an assignment, details to be explained upon arrival at Headquarters. You two have one hour to collect your gear, say your goodbyes, and be on the next transport ship." The lieutenant finally turned and looked the two of them in the eye, "If I were you I wouldn't plan on coming back any time soon." They nodded in understanding Penguin wondering the entire time why Shachi suddenly looked as though the roof was about to cave in. "Dismissed."

As they were walking away from the main building it became very apparent that Shachi's mood was not going to get any better.

"So what happens after we catch the transport to headquarters?" Penguin asked hesitantly after they had walked a short ways, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

"We meet up with Rear Admiral Hawke and any additional crew assigned to our side of the red line, and then depending on the mission either set back out to sea or cross on foot to G-1." Shachi sighed. "We'll learn any specifics of the mission then."

"Is it odd to pull a crew from all over the place like this?" Penguin wondered aloud thinking it made no logical sense to pull men from various bases when there should be an entire crew standing by at a moments notices. "Wouldn't it be better just to use men from headquarters?"

"Easier yes, better," Shachi paused before continuing, "I have a feeling that Rear Admiral Hawke wants people with specific skills and they'll pull exactly whoever they want for this. And considering that you and I have rather 'specialized' fields, I'm willing to bet Vagapunk has invented some new submersible. That or a world noble's involved."

"Surly there are more experienced people then . . . well maybe not you, but I know there're people better than I am," Penguin frowned.

Shachi looked over his shoulder with a reassuring smile. "True, but they put Rear Admiral Hawke in charge and he has a tendency to prefer to work with people he knows."

"He does?" Penguin asked wondering how exactly this got him the job. He'd heard the Rear Admiral's name before but that was it. Penguin didn't think he'd even been stationed on the same base with the man.

"I've worked under Hawke before, quite a bit actually." It was Shachi's turn to frown and Shachi rarely frowned. If Penguin had to choose he'd say the man's expression was usually on the pensive side, maybe also smug or blank, rarely upset or disapproving.

"What is it?" He asked wanting to know the reason behind the look. "Is he a poor commander?"

"No, no I wouldn't say that," Shachi answered with a sigh. "He's strict on discipline and expects to be obeyed the first time but that's not a bad thing it's just," he looked around to make sure he couldn't be overheard, they were nearly back at the barracks and there were plenty of other Marines milling around. "I've been ordered to do some awful things in this career, and I've done them . . . Most of the time it was Hawke giving the orders." Penguin had heard Shachi take a serious tone before, but this time there was a hint of self-loathing in the words and Penguin flinched inwardly wondering exactly what Shachi had been ordered to do. There had been times when he had thought the other man was willing to walk away from the marines, it seemed he finally had a hint as to why.

"Maybe," he started fishing for an appropriate response, "Maybe you just didn't know the big picture?"

"I hope so, Petty Officer, I hope so." And Shachi opened the door to their bunkhouse, leading the way inside and up the stairs. Penguin grabbed his rucksack from his locker and began throwing things into to it. He could see Shachi through the doorway of the Master Chief's room where he was carefully folding everything before packing his own sack.

-:-:-:-

Law sighed with contentment leaning back against the side of Pedar and Rebecca's house, letting the blinding snow, fall on his face. Eight hours, eight hours he had been there coaching Rebecca through labor, finding tasks for Pedar to do to keep the man out of the way, looking to Rebecca's mother (who had also been in the room) to provide assistance. Eight hours the woman had gone through the process until exhausted both physically and mentally. Eight hours of one of the most fascinating and breathtaking experiences of Law's life. He had never delivered a child before, and the blizzard that had raged outside nearly all day had prevented any other medical professional from coming to assist. That and Rebecca had continuously refused anyone new's presence in the room. Neither were there any hospitals on Krocylea or Law might have insisted on taking her to one rather than allowing the birth to take place in her home.

Still, to assist in the delivery of someone so tiny, to be there as a first breath was taken, and a first cry uttered, to hold a small being in his arms and know that someday there was the potential for this tiny person to grow into the next Vegapunk, Marine Fleet Admiral, or Gol D. Roger (despite the odds), to be allowed to participate, he couldn't help but feel honored. One of his medical instructors had often said "that sometimes it took a shift in perspective, a change in standing as it were, to see an answer that was right under your nose," well, his perspective on a number of things had just changed. Law had watch his comrades die in battle, had even taken life himself, but this . . . this was more than enough to give him a whole new appreciation for the living. This was, in part, why he aspired to become one of the world's greatest physicians. Death was an end, regardless of what one believed happened afterwards. When you were dead there was nothing more you could do in this world. But birth, and healing, that was the offering of the chance to continue to be, to continue to grow, to continue to change -

His stomach rumbled and Law was reminded not only of the hour, it was well past dinner, but of the darkness of the night, made lighter only by the continuously falling snow. Turning his collar up against the wet he headed home, head ducked against the wind. The cold, wind, and nearly blinding snow were more than enough to sober his mood before he could even climb the front steps. Thinking only of a hot shower, a hot meal, and a quiet evening, he was not pleased to find a guest waiting for his arrival. He had barely stepped inside and closed the door against the weather when Leana-san's voice called for his attention and from where he stood he could just see three people seated around the kitchen table through the doorway. Clarissa sat next to his Leana-san winding yarn around her hands, and across from them was Mumei.

"Don't bother taking off your boots," the large man grunted from his spot at the table as Law entered. "We'll be heading back out again." Law raised an eyebrow.

"The Governor has requested your presence immediately . . . that was two hours ago."

"Let me restock my bag and change cloths and we'll go." Law sighed leaving his boots on and taking a step towards the shop, regretting the he was no longer going to get that hot shower. He'd scrubbed off at Rebecca's, but the shower still would have been preferred. Mumei's voice stopped him.

"This is a social call."

"Fresh cloths then." Law stated. "I've just come from a delivery, I'm in no condition to see the Governor."

Again Mumei objected, "I had Clarissa pull some things for you." He held up a large duffle bag, "You can change there. Lets go." Law's eyes widened at the thought of the girl rifling through his drawers in search of some suitable clothing, and his mind raced trying to determine if there was even the slightest chance she might have seen something she wasn't supposed too.

"Don't worry," Clarissa sighed obviously reading the look on his face correctly, "I did the wash today so there was no need to even touch your room. I also added cloths for tomorrow too. With the weather as it is there's little chance you'll be home tonight. I've decided to stay here myself."

Yet more good news, Law suppressed a groan. He would have made his displeasure known, but Mumei was already pushing him back out the door. "Good grief! Do you intend to walk there in this?" Law grunted gesturing at the storm, snow already beginning to pile on his shoulder, as Mumei closed the front door behind them. "If we get lost in this we die."

"Don't be an idiot." Mumei answered leading the way down the block towards the Inn and its stables. "I've brought a sleigh, and Bepo to pull it."

"You hitched Bepo to a sleigh?"

"He doesn't mind, I asked him. And besides, who better to pull a sleigh in this weather then an ice-bear."

Law shook his head, refraining from correcting the man on Bepo's actual identity, but Mumei was pulling the door open to the stable and Law was greeted to the sight of Bepo sitting patiently on a pile of straw already hitched to the sleigh. "I heard you coming so I hooked myself in." Bepo stated obviously proud of himself for accomplishing the task, before his head suddenly drooped, "I'm sorry, you might not have wanted . . ."

"It's fine." Mumei grunted going over the harness straps.

"Better to ask forgiveness than permission , eh, Bepo?" Law chucked reaching out a hand to pat Bepo's shoulder, but the bear-minkman suddenly pulled his head back looking startled.

"I'm sorry. You, you smell like blood . . ." Bepo tilted his head in a rather puzzled fashion and Law smiled.

"Rebecca had her baby today," he stated by way of explanation, "I was needed to help."

"Oh! Male or female cub?" Bepo asked curiously.

Mumei burst out in a roar of laughter, straightening up from checking the last harness strap and holding his belly as he shook with mirth. The longer he roared the more Bepo seemed to wilt, obviously feeling he had said something wrong but not knowing what it was. "Sorry, Bepo, It's just that human babies are called children or kids." The man finally managed to chuckle.

"Kid? You mean like a goat?" Bepo looked at Law. Mumei's laughter abruptly stopped in a grunt of shock, "I'm sorry!" Bepo started to but Law cut his apology short.

With a completely straight face he explained. "Yes, Bepo, exactly like a goat. It's spelled the same and everything." Mumei snorted but began herding everyone out of the stable and into the storm waiting only until Bepo had pulled the sleigh clear of the doors before he began to close them. "And they are now the proud parents of a healthy baby girl." Law added waiting to laugh himself until he and Mumei had both climbed into the sleigh, though he kept the chuckle quiet. Bepo's feelings had already been injured enough for one day.

The speed at which Bepo pulled them up the road towards the Governor's compound was remarkable. Not only because the majority of the journey was made uphill, but also because the storm was quickly turning into complete whiteout conditions. It was so bad at times that there were moments when Law couldn't even make out the shape of Bepo's broad back running in front of them. Yet the bear in question seemed to enjoy the conditions, making a noise that sounded extraordinarily like human laughter. As fast as Bepo was going, and as warmly as Law was dressed, he was still nearly frozen through by the time they got to the compound. The bear barely slowed as they passed the guard house at the front gate, hesitating just long enough for the guard to wave him through, and soon after stopped to drop Law off at the kitchen door before tearing around to the back of the building to the shed where the sleigh was usually kept.

Knowing he was expected Law didn't bother to knock, just shoved open the door and stepped into the warm kitchen. He breathed in and closed his eyes as the warm air hit his face, and hurriedly began to unbutton his coat. Cook turned from the sink where she was scrubbing dishes, took one look at the state of his shirt (though he had done his best to clean it before leaving Rebecca's house) and jabbed her thumb at a door in the corner which he knew led to the laundry. "You can change in there. Leave your clothes in the soiled basket and I'll see to it they make it back to you."

When Law reemerged a few short minutes later the elderly women quickly wiped her hands on her apron and led the way down the hallway to the Governor's personal parlor. Her short rap at the door was answered with a call to come in, but Law's stomach gave another loud, and embarrassing, growl before he could set foot in the room. Cook smiled and patted his shoulder. "I'll bring you something." She stated before turning on her heels and leaving him in the doorway.

"Cigarette Law-kun?" High-Lord Elgar, a thin man with more gray in his hair then gold, asked opening a gold plated case and waving Law to sit in the high backed chair located some feet from his own. There was a fire dancing in the fireplace creating odd shadows across the man's face as he lit one of his own and drew a deep breath.

"No thank you." Law muttered sitting down, "I don't particularly relish the thought of slowly poisoning myself from the inside out." At that moment Cook re-entered the room and set a tray containing a steaming bowl of soup and several slices of bread on the table located next to Law's chair.

"Red wine then? Surly even you can agree that there are some benefits to that little vice of mine." The older man wheedled, standing, walking to the bar, and pulling a bottle out of the rack. There was a pop as he uncorked the wine and began to pour two glasses.

"Only when taken in moderation." Law answered wondering where this was going, but he accepting the glass. There wasn't enough there to actually inebriate him, and even if there had been Law knew himself well enough to know when to stop, especially when he wanted to maintain his clear head.

There was a moment of silence as Law started on the soup, and Annette's father sipped his wine before he spoke. "Three weeks from now I'm expecting a rather important visitor." He stated as Law lifted the plate of bread from the tray and set it off to the other side of the table having no intention of eating any. "An ambassador from the world Government, possibly from the Nobles themselves, has decided to take a tour of North Blue. They wish to assess the needs of the kingdoms of this part of the world. By recommendation of my uncle, who you know is king of Neritm, they have decided to start with Krocylea and work their way south. There is no need for them to travel further north, as you know, the few islands in the iced seas are self-sufficient." Law raised an eyebrow over his next bite of food but waited patiently. "What I wish to know," The governor continued, "is that as you have spent a great deal of time on these seas, and as you are familiar with the entities that sail them, and as Neritm is considered by most as part of Becketts's territory, some say inherited from Doflamingo, in your opinion, what are the odds of pirates interfering?"

Law put his spoon down and settled back in his seat, very carefully keeping his face impassive. Why couldn't the man simply ask if there was a chance of this ambassador's arrival potentially interfering with Doflamingo's plans? All right, so Law knew very well why that question shouldn't be asked in such a straightforward manner. Just as he knew Beckett was not the pirate people were actually interested in, or that he, in particular, should not be admitting to any familiarity with either infamous man. The same way he knew his own answers were going to have to beat around the bush as well. Someone like him could not run the risk of potentially accusing the governor of working with the pirate underground, even if it was true. Not when there was the chance that someone who didn't know the truth could overhear. Damn this was annoying. Law smiled. One wrong word here and he could quite easily find himself swinging from the gallows.

-:-:-:-

It was amazing how quickly one could get to Marineford. Especially when one was on the fastest ship available navigating by an eternal pose and then riding the Tarai Current. At least Penguin assumed that's how they had gotten there. Upon getting aboard Shachi had chosen to read through any information he could get his hands on about North Blue recommending Penguin do the same. Penguin, however, had chosen to spend the majority of the voyage playing on his harmonica or in his bunk asleep. It was now the morning of the following day and he was following Shachi down the docks to a second ship that they would soon be boarding. Penguin still had no idea what was going on, but he felt certain they were about to find out.

Sure enough, waiting at the foot of the ramp Shachi was heading for, were two men. One- a tall lean man, with a beak of a nose, and black hair sticking out from a blue pinstripe fedora that matched his suit- was wearing the traditional coat of a rear admiral across his soldiers. This, Penguin supposed, was Rear Admiral Hawke. His suspicion was confirmed the moment Shachi snapped to attention and saluted.

"Rear Admiral Hawke, Master Chief Shachi and Petty Officer Penguin reporting as ordered, sir!" Penguin stopped the customary foot behind Shachi and saluted as well, though he remained silent.

"At ease," the Rear Admiral rumbled in a low almost soothing tone. Penguin dropped the salute and clasped his hands behind his back the moment permission was given. "It's good to see you, Master Chief. You remember Captain Bligh."

Shachi nodded respectfully and shook the man's offered hand, " _Captain,_ congratulations on the promotion, Sir." Bligh was a large man, easily as wide as he was tall, with shoulders and arms that looked like they belonged on a gorilla. The man would not have been out of place as a carpenter in a shipyard had he not been wearing a pristine forest green suit, white gloves, and gold tie.

"Congratulations, yourself." The man grunted giving a nod at Penguin. There was a look in his eye Penguin did not entirely like and he tried not to stiffen under the man's studying gaze.

"Gentlemen," Hawke continued, "we are going to North Blue. We've an ambassador to escort, and Vegapunk's got some new submersible, or something, he wants tested out. We might as well hit two birds with one stone, so this sub will be playing scout for the Ambassador's ship. You two will sail under the command of the Captain here for the duration of the voyage. I expect you'll get the specs and meet the rest of the team before this venture truly gets underway, but for now get aboard and stow your gear. I want to get to the White City, across the Red Line and to G-1 by tomorrow morning if at all possible."

"Understood, sir." Shachi responded and the Rear Admiral nodded. Penguin and Shachi filed past him up the plank to the second transport, Penguin wondering the whole time if the information they needed was going to continue to be fed to them piecemeal. Well at least now he knew there was a sub involved. That, at least, gave him some indication of the role he was expected to play in the days to come.


	5. Depart: Strangers Converge on Krocylea

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you RougeSpirit for the speedy and generous review. I hope this next chapter doesn't disappoint ^_^

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

 **Depart: Strangers Converge on Krocylea**

It was late. If the sun pouring through the white linen curtains didn't tell him that, his body would have. Law closed his eyes again unwilling to get up. He could hear somebody running along the corridor on the floor above him and he rolled over trying to convince himself it was okay to stay in bed an extra thirty minutes. Law suddenly froze. When he'd rolled over he'd expected to hit the edge of the mattress but instead had encountered an extra foot of space. His curtains weren't white, there wasn't a floor above his room, and the sheets on his bed were supposed to be flannel not cotton. "Where am I?" he groaned.

"The governor's compound in one of the guest rooms on the east side."

Law nearly jumped out of his skin upon hearing a female voice answer. In fact he did bolt straight up tossing the covers back nearly to his feet, forcing himself to stay seated when he realized the speaker was nothing more than a dark haired maid who had very obviously just entered the room. "I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized, "but it doesn't surprise me that you're disoriented. You were so tired last night that you fell asleep with your gloves on." And she pointed at Law's hands. He looked down at himself relieved to find that, aside from his shoes, which were in the middle of the floor, he had gone to bed in yesterday's clothes. He also had enough sense to realize that had he been a bit more awake when he had gone to bed (or less depending on the point of view) she might had found him in an entirely different state. "I've brought you the clothes you left in the wash yesterday." She rambled turning to place a basket on top the dresser along the wall next to the door, "and a towel and things in case you want a shower. It's through there." She nodded at a second door Law had assumed was a closet, caught his eye, and then blushed a very deep red before rushing from the room muttering something about "Cook," and "Breakfast." Chuckling to himself Law climbed out of bed.

It was with a clear head and wet hair that Trafalgar Law made his way into the compound's kitchen some twenty minutes later. He had collected nearly all his belongings needing only his coat and hat, and he was pleased to see that both were right where he had left them draped over a chair. The sun was shining brightly outside with no sign of the storm from the previous night, and it seemed that somebody had already shoveled the paths around the compound. He intended to head home, but before he could even settle his hat on his head Cook set a steaming bowl of hot rice pudding on the table and looked at him expectantly. He smiled and sat down to the meal, knowing that the way things were going he might not get another chance until dinner.

He was three quarters done with his food when he saw it. Setting at the center of the table was a china bowl filled with breadfruit. He slowly reached out and picked one up eyes widening in awe. He didn't particularly like them, though opportunities to try one were few and far between, but he knew enough about them to be impressed. A tropical fruit native to South Blue, the plant would be difficult to grow in North Blue's climate, impossible without a greenhouse, and growing trees in a greenhouse used up valuable space better saved for other crops. Law could also tell by the large size of the one he held that these particular Breadfruit had not been grown in a greenhouse, but imported from South Blue meaning they would have had to cross through the Grand Line. Anything that crossed that sea was incredibly expensive. "The import cost of one of these alone could feed a family of four for six months." He whispered.

Cook looked up from the recipe guide she was reading, "The master has them brought in once a month." She answered in a dry voice; "He claims the ones grown in the Neritm hothouses aren't as good."

Law could only shake his head in astonishment. Suddenly the door clicked open letting in a cold draft. Law jerked and hastily put the breadfruit back in the bowl as he turned around trying to school his features as he met Anne's clear green eyes. She was frowning at him, and Law knew exactly why "You've been commenting on how Pa spends his money again haven't you?" she stated. Law said nothing, and not for the first time he wondered how she knew some of the things he said when she wasn't around. The servants must be talking. The servants or Bepo. He'd have to have a chat with that minkman.

Anne sighed and stepped out of her boots. Removing her coat and fur-lined, leather gloves, she swept across the room. "What is it this time? The fruit?"

"Anne," he tried gently, "The money spent to bring a single breadfruit all the way from South Blue could fund a school on Krocylea for half a year. The contents of what's in the bowl alone could fund the building of a professional hospital, albeit a small one . . ." she raised a hand and he stopped.

"Really, Law, if he were using the taxes on this stuff you would have a point, but it's his money . . ." she placed her hands on her hips and adopted a lecturing tone, but Law wasn't going to have this conversation, not here, not now, not with her. Especially not when she was standing there in an emerald silk dress, lace lining her collar and cuffs, facing him over a china bowl filled with breadfruit.

"Try living off next to nothing for a while," Law snapped standing from his chair and buttoning up his coat, "and then come back to this place, take a good look around, and see if you can see anything except waste." And he stormed out of the kitchen into the sun. He wasn't angry, not really, just disappointed. These were their rulers, the leaders of their government, true they were expected to live in a higher fashion then the rest of the people around them. Law understood that, really he did, but when he saw a man spending his own money wastefully on a regular basis, he had to wonder what was being done with the finances that rightful belonged to the people.

He arrived home wondering if he had said too much, overstepped the boundaries, all right he knew he had, but how was he going to repair the damage, or was it the kind of thing that needed to have been said. Shaking his head and wishing he'd thought it out a bit more, Law pushed open his front door and stepped inside. He could hear Leana-san humming somewhere inside the house, but it was the sound of clinking dishes that drew him into the kitchen. Standing over the sink scrubbing plates, still wearing yesterday's dress, was Clarissa. "You're still here?" he asked more than a little surprised.

She smiled at him, "Mother says Rebecca and the baby're not quite up to visitors yet and there's so much to do around here that . . ." Law stopped her.

"When you're done with that I want you to go home. Your sister's not up too much right now, and I don't expect your mother to take care of two households. Take however long you need to help them. Your own family should come before us. "

She looked at him gratefully but tried to argue, "What about you and Doctor Tiberius, and ma'am Leana . . ."

"We may be bachelors, but I think Tiberius-ya and I can keep the house in order for a week or so."

She laughed at him, "I'll check back on Monday." Law smiled and went into the other room to greet Leana-san, where he spent the next hour reading the newspaper to her and describing the accompanying photographs. He was just finishing the paper when Clarissa poked her head around the corner to announce that she was going home, and an hour after that a set of male voices entered without knocking and by the sound of their conversation moved into the work room. Law could tell in an instant that one belonged to the master of the house, and from the gravely soft sound of the other he knew that Dr. Pontius, who worked on Krocylea's south side, had also arrived. It wasn't long before he was called into the workroom as well.

"Law," Tiberius roared not bothering to figure out that Law was in the next room, "LAW!"

"I'm right here," he stated calmly leaning against the door-frame. "And before you ask Rebecca gave birth to healthy baby girl yesterday."

"Good," the man grunted, "but before we get into any details on that subject, I want to know if you've ever seen anything like this!" And he pointed to the slide set up under the workroom's microscope. Law frowned but bent over the scope for a look as Tiberius kept talking. "At first we thought it was the Pox." Law felt himself grow paler as he adjusted the scope for a higher magnification. "All the symptoms seem consistent, duration, rash, everything." Law adjusted the scope a second time and now he was sure. "However, the usual treatment doesn't seem to be working, and when we took a culture for a closer look . . ."

"You're right," Law broke in and the older man paused as Law stood the look on his face completely serious. "This is the Pox. The Drepane strain to be exact."

"The Drepane strain?" Dr. Pontius murmured.

Law explained, "The isle of Drepane underwent an epidemic some ten years ago, the virus mutated from its original form to this. It strikes faster, usually within three to eight days after exposure . . . and is far more resistant to treatment. I had it once."

"I didn't know that." Tiberius grumbled.

"You never asked," Law stated calmly. "Dr. Ika insisted I learn to cure myself, one of the worst months of my life, but at least I now know this illness like the back of my own hand." He paused calculating the proper procedure and counter measures before continuing, Tiberius waiting without saying a word for once, though Dr. Pontius's eyebrow was raised, presumably at the way Law had taken charge.

"Unfortunately the treatment remains much the same so there's little more we can do except make the patients comfortable and isolate them from the rest of society until it passes. I trust the Marlow farm has been placed under quarantine?"

"The moment I suspected it was the pox."

"Are there any other cases?"

"One. The Yates' eldest son on the south side. I quarantined them as well." Dr. Pontius answered.

Law sighed with relief. "Up until now we thought that the illness was unique to that island . . . but somehow it must have gotten here . . . Do either of you know if there's been a ship from Drepane in port recently?"

"No, but I'll find out." Dr. Pontius stated, "I'll also inform the Neritm guard to keep an eye out for any ships I find and put them under medical quarantine until cleared of this, and place a call to the Drepane medical institute asking for any extra vaccine they can send our way."

"Our regular vaccine should be sufficient for the time being though I would prefer the other." Law answered, "We need to advise the port authorities. Any incoming ships should be warned, and all outgoing should submit to a medical check before departure." Dr. Pontius nodded in understanding and left.

Tiberius frowned at him, but Law ignored the look as he began to collect his medical bag and coat. "You're acting as if this is a crisis, nephew," the older man began, "we've got two cases, both on out of the way farms and both under quarantine. You're acting like it's an epidemic."

"If we ignore this," Law looked over at him as he buttoned up the coat, "and it turns into one, people will die." He threw the medical bag over one shoulder and started for the door.

"Where are you going!"

Law ignored the demanding tone to the voice and simply answered as he opened the door, "to see Rebecca and Pedar."

"Rebecca had the Pox as a child, she and her baby should both be fine." The older man snapped.

"Pedar and the Marlow boy were in the same room together for several minutes," Law spoke over him pointing out the facts. "They've already been exposed, and likely immunity through the mother or not, they deserve to be warned." Leaving Tiberius to see to the rest of the necessary details, Law exited his home and began the walk to see his patients. Besides, pox risk or not mother and baby were still due for a check up.

-:-:-:-

They had crossed the red line in the night. Disembarking from the transport ship after a quick meal and then marching hour after hour past Mariejois in the dark, the walk eating well into the next day as well. Shachi half believed that Rear Admiral had done it to see what kind of condition his men were in. Though Shachi also knew the rear admiral was in a hurry for some reason. It was that wich set their pace.

Shachi wasn't exactly complaining, he didn't particularly like the waiting game that took place between most postings. Now they were on the other side, holed up for the night in a guest barracks located on the outer parameter of G-1. Shachi had stayed awake longer than the other men, he could hear snores issuing from the bunks around him, but his own mind simply wouldn't quiet into sleep. He kept trying to make plans, but without any certainty in his future, doing so was proving to be impossible.

He didn't know exactly what they were planning on having him do, only that they expected him to manage some sort of team on-board the sub, and it was driving him crazy. How was he supposed to plan for possibilities when no one would tell him under which scenario the possibilities were going to exist? And managing a team, Shachi had a tendency to avoid giving orders, except perhaps to Penguin, he disliked repeating himself, and he absolutely hated trying to explain things to people who insisted on asking a multitude of questions, or worse, simply did not get the point. He was seriously concerned that they were going to name him the chief engineer aboard. That, he supposed, would be the worst-case scenario.

Penguin was an exception. He may not do to well with listening when Shachi explained a theoretical idea, never had, but if Shachi gave the man a tangible, practical, task that could be completed, Penguin would make it a reality. If only he could insure that anyone else assigned to him would be as competent.

-:-:-:-

It was the afternoon of the fourth day after the boy from the Marlow Farm had come for help. Dr. Pontius had located and quarantined the infected ship, a merchant who carried seed and plowing supplies, which explained why the two farms had been the first to be infected. So far there had been only one new case of the pox, a cozen who had visited the Marlow farm prior to the diagnosis. Pedar, Rebecca and her newborn were still perfectly healthy showing no signs of the characteristic nausea, fatigue, aches, or pounding head that typically appeared before the rash, and Law had taken the added precaution of giving Clarissa extended time off. Unfortunately someone else was showing signs of illness.

Law quietly slipped into his Leana-san's room and though she was sound asleep pressed a hand to her head. He sighed with relief, the fever hadn't struck yet, that didn't mean it wouldn't. It just meant that they had added time to combat the rest of the illness before it set it. Contrary to popular opinion Law knew that it was the fever the killed pox patients, not the rash itself. Just as quietly he slipped back out and headed down stairs to the workshop where he continued creating and cataloging the vaccination and antiviral medications that he been rush-shipped in from Drapane, for distribution around the city. The antiviral wouldn't destroy the pox but, when used properly, should greatly slow its progression, and if they could get the vaccine to enough of the people at risk . . . well there was a very good chance that this would be nothing like ten years ago.

-:-:-:-

Shachi stared at the vessel in front of him, eyes wide with astonishment. They were standing on a small rize looking down upon the G-1 docks which gave him a full view, the Harbor Master at their side having led them this far from the barracks. In his opinion the ship looked as if someone had decided to cross a Tang fish with a double masted Schooner and call it a submersible. True it was painted a deep black on the upper portions with a cream under belly to provide camouflage in the water, and though the marine's seagull logo was there, it wasn't nearly as prominent as it would be on a sailing vessel.

"That, gentlemen, is the Acanthuridae." The Harbormaster declared waving his hand dramatically.

"What an awful name for a Marine Sub!" Penguin muttered under his breath, though not quietly enough because the man raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at the Petty Officer.

"What do you mean, son?" he asked rather tonelessly.

"They named it after the Surgeonfish." Penguin began to explain; "not very big, live around coral reefs . . ." he trailed off. "What? I like fish," he added with a shrug.

"I thought it looked like a Tang," Shachi offered somewhat lamely.

"Essentially the same thing." The official muttered, "and apparently the construction team agreed with you. They've been calling it that since the foreman saw the blueprints and the name stuck." He shrugged and started down a set of nearby steps to the docks, "She's designed as a submersible, but also capable of sailing on the surface as needed. The sails and rigging are stowed away at the moment. Built for speed too. Just as fast above the waves as below them. First of her kind, though if all goes well on your journey we'll be seeing more of them. If you gentlemen want to follow me I'll give you a tour and send the sub's XO your way."

The Harbormaster was incredibly proud of the submarine. Shachi knew that within thirty seconds of setting foot on deck. There were seven decks, two that extended the entire length of the ship, two that rested centered on the vessel below the water, and three that rose above the bow growing progressively smaller with the main mast, or conning tower depending on the mode the ship was in, rising out of the center of the topmost deck. He led them across the plank onto the main deck, which was actually the stern half of deck four, directly across from a large round room at its center with the secondary mast rising from its roof.

"In there's a gym." The man nodded, "when you're above the water there's a door from this deck, or if you're below there's a hatch from deck five." He stomped his foot on the planks of the deck they were currently standing on. "There's no need to worry about the wooden deck, all exterior surfaces are metal lined, and the lower hull has the standard Kairōseki stone mesh that's installed on any vessel preparing to sail the calm belt. All the doors have the new seal design, both interior and exterior in case of a breach." And he led them inside still explaining as he walked.

Shachi very quickly realized why the man was so impressed with the Acanthuridae. The little sub was designed for far more than speed and efficiency. It was designed to be a home to its sailors implying that any mission served on board would be long term. In addition to the little Gym, deck four housed a large pantry, fridge, and freezer to complement the kitchen and mess hall located directly next to the main doors; a common area bordered by a small library and laundry room; and the radio room. Though the radio room was little more than a small closet containing a desk, cushioned chair, and several den den mushi.

"General crew quarters are located above on deck three," the Man continued, "The captains cabin on deck one and there're several senior officer's cabins below on deck five. Not counting the captain, the Acanthuridae is capable of housing up to forty men. More if you want to hot bunk or string up hammocks. There's a head on every deck, and two by the crew quarters, I know those two at least also have showers, there's also one for the captain, and one to be shared by the senior staff on deck five. I shouldn't have to tell you about all the fancy gizmos and pressurization stuff needed to make those work when the sub is submerged. It's all over my head anyway.

"The wardroom is that round cabin you saw from outside that takes up the majority of deck two, rest of deck two is storage for the sails, rigging, and whatever else might be needed up there. I'd show you the bunkrooms, but I'm not sure where the XO'll put you so at the moment there's little point. There's a large medical bay below us at the bow, with the weapons systems and generators in the stern compartments. We've got one of our best physicians on board or so the rumor goes so no need to worry over medical treatment. Below the med-bay, on deck six is the main control room. The remainder of decks six and seven are all your machinery. Propulsion systems, batteries, ballast control, pump room, escape trunks, storage for spare parts, and anything that's necessary that I didn't just rattle off. Again, most of that stuff's over my head. But if you'll follow me we'll head down there because those decks are probably where you'll be working."

Leading the way to a center stairwell the man disappeared through the hatch. Shachi looked over his shoulder and grinned. All his earlier worries aside, he had a feeling he was going to like serving aboard this sub. At the very least he was going to like the sub itself.

-:-:-:-

To say that he was concerned would be an understatement, Law mused quietly to himself as he carefully replaced the rag across Leana-san's forehead with a freshly dampened one. It had been four days since the pox had first struck her. The fever that had come with the rash had been persistent. Starting with the first signs of the blisters it had held steady even as the appearance of new pox had gradually subsided. There had been no new signs of the rash that morning and Law had expected the fever to begin fading as well. It hadn't. Law supposed he should be grateful it had not grown worse, but he couldn't help worrying. This, he supposed this was exactly why most physicians refused to treat their own families.

She sighed in her sleep and Law simply sat back and watched for a moment or two. He'd already given her as much paracetamol as he dared until teatime, the rashy areas of her skin had been covered in calamine lotion, and he'd been demanding in his insistence that she drink plenty of fluids to avoid dehydration. In reality there was nothing more he could do, still he hoped to do more.

He removed his medical gloves intending to switch them for a clean pair, but in the moment before he could grab the new ones the door creaked open.

"Law, how is she . . ." Tibirius stopped in his tracks eyes going immediately to Law's bare hands, his gaze resting on the tattooed knuckles of the left which bore the makings D, E, A, T, and H. in a flash the older man had crossed the room and grabbed Law's left hand by the wrist, face growing paler and paler has he took it all in. Law remained calm, barely. "What's this? Law?" the Physician hissed shaking Law's wrist, "What is this? Aren't these the marking attributed to the Surgeon of Death?"

"They are," Law acknowledged twisting out of his grasp and taking a step back.

If possible his Tiberius even paler. "A pirate? You became a pirate?" he whispered in apparent shock and anger.

Law felt a flash of annoyance and it crept into his own voice though he kept his tone equally low. "Don't pretend you're surprised. I've always been a pirate. Made more-so by that man you deal so frequently with."

"You volunteered to go!"

"Oh, don't pretend I had a choice."

"If you hadn't -"

But Law was having none of it. His temper was already frayed by worry over Leana-san and he had slept little over the past couple days. Not excuses, just facts. "Oh yes it all comes down to a boy suited for sailing. Nothing at all to do with your own -"

"This has nothing to do with me!"

"Why can't you do the honorable thing and take responsibility for your own actions!"

"Honorable? A pirate lecturing me on honorability, I'll have you know young man that I am the adult in this house and . . ."

"Then why won't you take the responsibility? Why all the excuses? No answer? Well if you can't answer me I'll at least answer you. This," he brandished his tattooed hand "was my choice to have done and I will take the responsibility for it. This" he waved the hand again, "is my secret to keep as I choose though I swear to you I will never let it endanger anyone who does not know the risk themselves. Surly my word is still worth something." He began to leave the room pulling on a pair of fresh surgical gloves as he went. "My six months are almost up. As soon as Leana-san's well again I'll take the first ship off this island. I will, as always, keep specifics out of my letters, yes I insist on writing, and you can tell her whatever you wish, just try not to contradict yourself if you decide to lie!" and he stormed from the room, if it is possible to storm from a room without running the risk of waking a sleeping patient.

-:-:-:-

This assignment was turning out to be nothing like Penguin had anticipated. It was the sixth day since they had set sail, and it seemed that with each passing hour things grew worse. No one else seemed to notice, or perhaps no one else seemed to care. Penguin had approached Shachi early on with his concerns. The younger man was the senior partner after all, and Rear Admiral Hawke had even named him chief engineer for the sub, but all Shachi had said was that Penguin should keep his head down and walk small. The master chief had also implied that it would be better to keep his mouth shut in front of Captain Bligh. And after watching the man in action he knew it was true. So at the end of his shift he approached the X.O. instead.

Carefully cleaning the grease off his hands with a rag, he stepped into the control room. It was actually rather large for a submarine control room, at least compared to the vessels he had previously served on. The mechanical aspect at least was the same, though on this ship the instrument panels and consoles that lined the walls also bordered a large round window that looked out into the ocean's depths. Stuffing the aforementioned rag into the pocket of his marine issued boiler suit (blue with a marine seagull patch on each shoulder) he gave a careful look around to be sure that Captain Bligh was indeed not present, and then stepped up to the Con. "Sir," he started when the X.O. motioned him forward keeping his voice low so the helmsman wouldn't overhear. "I had a question, it might be a stupid one, but I still wanted to ask."

"And so you waited until the Captain retired . . ."

"He's not in the medical bay, sir?" Penguin could have swallowed his tongue the moment the words left his mouth, but fortunately the X.O. only smiled.

"For once no, though I've never before known a man who'd jump so fast for the nearest doctor if someone so much as sneezed." The X.O. winced at his own words and stated quickly, "but you didn't hear that from me."

"Hear what, Sir?"

"Good man. What was you're question, Petty Officer?"

Penguin took a deep breath suddenly doubting that this was a good idea but spoke anyway. "The slaves, sir. Why are they here? I always thought they were supposed to stay on Mariejois in service to the World Nobles?" as he spoke his eyes tracked one such as he moved about the control room. The person in question was a tall somewhat gangly young man that couldn't have been much more than thirteen, maybe fourteen, and the only reason Penguin could see for him to be on the sub was that the ship's navigator seemed to like to have someone around to hand him charts. There were others on board, none so young as the boy, but worked a great deal harder. Penguin knew that Shachi had been incredibly disappointed to find that the team of men he'd been promised in the engine room were not a set of the best marines, but a pair of haggard looking slave men in their thirties. Those manning the pump room and ballast control were the same, and the spare machinery mechanics and relief crew. In fact the only people not onboard the submarine who weren't slaves were the senior staff. Worse, the slaves may not be chained but each wore a thick metal collar around their neck that would explode with any tampering putting the lives of everyone on board in danger, if just one was pushed too far.

"No wonder you waited for the Captain to be in another room," the X.O. raised an eyebrow, "but he leaned forward lowering his voice for Penguin's ear alone. "To tell you the truth I'm not comfortable with this either, but the orders come from headquarters so there's no way to override them. As you well know this is an experimental submarine. Should something happen and the escape trunks not work, people will die. The superiors were seeking to, minimize, any loses."

"So," Penguin paused and licked his lips beginning to feel a bit sick, "they're here because they're expendable?"

"Not just them." The X.O. paused, but Penguin got the drift, though before he could reply the control room door creaked and the X.O. continued in a louder tone of voice, "No, I think we have another day or two before we reach the calm belt so we should surface at least once before then, if only to rendezvous with the ambassador's ship. I'll have to check with the Captain, but I don't see how using that time to give the propulsion systems a check over should be a problem."

"I concur with that." Captain Bligh's voice suddenly boomed from the doorway as the large man strutted into the room, "It's good to have men under my command who actually take their job seriously. YOU BOY!" he suddenly roared at the slave who had been waiting patiently to leave the room, his arms loaded with sea charts he had no doubt been ordered to put away. "What have I told you about standing in my way!" and he backhanded the lad sending him falling into a control console, maps flying everywhere. Had the X.O.'s restraining hand not been on Penguin's shoulder Penguin himself might have very quickly found himself in just as much trouble.

"If I may sir." The X.O. murmured softly, "That may have been a bit overboard?"

"No, I should say not!" Captain Bligh growled. "I've told his kind to stay out of my way countless times already. They should be reminding each other, but perhaps they're too stupid for that." Penguin took a deep breath and stuffed his hands in his boiler suit pockets attempting to keep himself from doing anything "overly rash" as Shachi would say. "There's only one law on this ship," Bligh continued his voice taking on a commanding tone, "the law of fear, and I intend to see that all obey it. I won't see this place erupt into chaos because a few imbeciles can't understand a simple command."

"Petty Officer," the X.O. interjected softly, "Take the kid with you on your way out."

Penguin nodded and, once it became clear the Captain Bligh had nothing more to say, he slipped away from the con and over to where the slave boy was hurriedly picking up the dropped charts, his face strangely completely void of emotion. When he had been the kid's age Penguin was fairly sure that such a hard blow would have caused him to shed a few tears, to or to erupt in a fury. Penguin hauled the lad up by the arm and pulled him out of the control room and into the corridor where he made the boy stand still so he could check the back of the youth's head. Sure enough the boy's scalp had been cut against the edge of the control panel in the fall, but the cut didn't seem too deep. "You'll have a nasty goose egg in the morning." Penguin muttered, and he was about to suggest a trip upstairs to the medical bay when the sound of boot steps announced the approach of someone else. Penguin looked up to find Shachi giving the scene a look over a resigned sort of understanding on his face.

"Forget the medical bay the doc won't see him." Shachi muttered and Penguin opened his mouth to protest but the other man was already walking away motioning him to follow. "Bring him in here." Shachi muttered leading the way back down the corridor and into an engine room.

"Here." Shachi made the boy, who was still clutching the sea charts, sit on the floor while he pulled a large white metal box from the wall next to the door. "Hold this." He shoved the box into Penguin's hands and opened the lid revealing a first aid kit. "This is simple enough that even I can take care of it." He muttered and set to work.

Penguin longed to say something, but wasn't quite sure what. The truth was he had disobeyed Shachi's orders to let the matter drop when he went to the X.O. in the first place and they both knew it, and now he was dragging Shachi into the whole mess by allowing him to take care of an injured slave. Penguin watch as the younger man cleaned the wound and began to wrap a bandage around the boy's head, but in the end all he could think to say was, "I didn't know you were a medic."

"I've picked up a few things over the years since leaving Swallow Island," Shachi muttered tying the bandage, "basic field medicine is something every marine should know. I'm no doctor, but in a pinch I can keep a man alive long enough for one to arrive." He looked at Penguin, "and I think that all things considered it might be best for you to learn to do the same." He was now peering into the boy's eyes and Penguin suspected he might be looking for the tell tale signs of a concussion. This wasn't right. The kid should have been allowed to see the doctor. He shouldn't have been struck in the first place; he shouldn't even be a slave! Surly someone so young couldn't be a criminal deserving of such a fate.

"There's got to be a way out of this something we could do . . ." Penguin muttered aloud

"Such as?" Shachi replied giving him a wary look.

"Captain Bligh has full control of this ship, and then there's the war ship the ambassador is riding on . . . well what if we tied the captain up?" Penguin watched as Shachi's eyebrow rose until they disappeared beneath his hat. That was the closest expression to shock he had ever seen the other man make. "The Rear Admiral need never know," Penguin continued, "I'm sure I could convince the doctor to say the Captain has taken ill, in fact the Captain's so paranoid we may be able to convince _him_ to take ill and then it wouldn't even be a lie . . ."

"You're talking mutiny Petty Officer." The tone to Shachi's voice was hard, brooking no argument, and while he knew Shachi wouldn't report him he also knew it was time to stop talking. Penguin shut up.

-:-:-:-

As with all properly treated illnesses eventually the pox began to fade. A little over a full week since she had come down with the infection Leana-san was up and about the house beginning to ease back into her normal routine. The fever was gone, the aches had disappeared, she was sleeping soundly, and the rash was now little more than the pale pink tender patches that came after the healing blisters. Perhaps even better was the fact that the other victims of the illness had also progressed to the healing stages and no new cases had developed meaning they were well past the point of being infectious and all Law's planning for the worst-case scenario had been for nothing. He would rather that be the case anyway, plan for the worst and not need it.

Still there was one contingency plan Law knew he would need. He needed finish his goal and leave this island and soon. In his pleasure of Leana-san's recovery Law had not forgotten the scene that had taken place between himself and Tiberius at her bedside. He glanced down at his gloved hands. So far he had not been reported, there were no marines on the island, but by the end of next week there would be, and if things continued as they were . . . yes, he had to get off this island before the man decided the risk of protecting a near family member was no longer worth the potential wrath of the world government. If worse came to worse he could always fight his way out, but Law prayed it wouldn't be necessary. With his Leana-san on the mend he'd be gone that very night if he could, but that too wasn't an option.

He glanced at the edge of the worktable where the problem currently resided. Just the sight of it caused a knot to form between his shoulder blades. In a cream-colored envelope bearing the crest of the house of Elgar was the invitation to Anne's twenty-first birthday celebration in one week's time. The party itself was not the issue. Rather the issue was the single sentence scrawled on the outside of the envelope in Anne's looping handwriting, "remember, you promised." He had promised, and no matter how dangerous his current situation he could not leave knowing that his last act as resident of an island he was beginning to think of as home had been to break his word. Call it pride, call it stubbornness, call it stupidity if you will, that was one thing Law was unwilling to do.

One week. He could last a week. He could go to the party and rub elbows with the elite at the same time keeping off the radar of any marines this ambassador brought with him. He was sure he could, he had done it before, and then, if there was a ship available he could slip off into the night as soon as the event was done. And arrange for Bepo to follow soon after. His cover was blown, the mission would be scrapped, and he believed he had the information he needed anyway. He'd have to keep an eye on the harbor schedules without letting anybody guess what he was up to or why, but still it was feasible. He could feel himself begin to calm as he worked out the necessary steps in his head, the anxiety over the event slowly evaporating. But just as quickly as the apprehension had vanished a new spike of alarm formed as he realized that there was one thing he could not forget to do. If he left Krocylea without informing that man . . . Law stood from the desk and leaving the table exactly as it was, headed upstairs to his room. He had a call to make, the sort of call it would not be wise to wait to make until last minute.

Upon entering his room he pulled open the top drawer of his dresser and from the spot he had made for it in the right corner pulled out a den den mushi. It was a full sized variation capable of overseas calls, but most distinctively, and what had alarmed him when he realized Clarissa could have seen it before she assured him she had not gone through his drawers, was the smiley belonging to Beckett painted on its shell. Sitting on the edge of his bed Law dialed.

It rang once, twice, three times, and just when Law was bracing himself to need to leave a message there was a click on the other end as a very familiar voice answered the line, "Well, squirt, I was beginning to wonder when I'd hear from you again." There was the sound of soft laughter and Law took a deep breath before speaking.

"Captain, sir, I thought I'd be leaving a message to be sent on."

"Rargrargrarg" the man on the other end laughed, "You know I always make time for you, Squirt. Do you have what you were after?"

Law winced, he'd been prepared for this question, but he still disliked the answer. "His daughter. Ann's the key to all of his plans here. Or rather her most advantageous political marriage will be. They intend to ally her with a particular family of note . . . ." The moment Law gave the name there was silence on the other end of the line.

"That won't do at all, an alliance of that size would tip the power scale . . . she should be removed from the game-board then."

"No." Law couldn't stop the snap in his voice at that remark, but he recovered quickly. "Rather I think with the right incentive she can be turned."

"You're soft on her?"

Law snorted, "Hardly. I'd just rather not spill blood here if I don't have to. On that note, Tiberius spotted my tattoos."

"I warned you."

"You did. I want you to know that in a little over a week I'll be changing locations. It's too difficult to keep up appearances here now. The Governor has begun asking me what I know about the movement of various pirate groups on the North Blue, and an ambassador from the world government is due to arrive in time to celebrate Elgar Annette's twenty-first birthday."

There was a pause on the other line and when Beckett spoke again his voice had taken on a far more serious tone. "These questions the governor's been asking, what have you told him?"

"Nothing he couldn't have gotten from the marines had he bothered to ask." Law answered. "About the ambassador's visit?"

"I'll leave it up to you, Squirt." Beckett chuckled, "I'll keep my eyes on the paper and depending on the reports . . . if everything goes smoothly I'll assume you want to keep the door open for remaining there permanently, I know you have a soft spot for that island. Otherwise . . . You're a smart man, you figure it out. Keep me informed." Law nodded his head though he knew the other man couldn't see him, he had a feeling the den den mushi still might be able to transmit the gesture the same way they seemed to transmit the user's facial expressions. "And Squirt, remember, regrets can always be buried Rargrargrargrag." Beckett was still laughing when he hung up. His point was clear. If Law didn't act in a way to end or at least largely postpone things . . . Anne was as good as dead.

Law sat there still holding the receiver, calculating every possible action he might take while the World Noble ambassador was present on Krocylea, and all possible consequences that could come from those actions. And then there was the way his Captain could interpret any newspaper article that could result. Anything from undying loyalty, to leaving to start his own crew, to full on betrayal. Beckett was not a man who handled betrayal well. Not unlike another he had known once upon a time. This was going to take some work. The easiest thing to do would be lie low . . . .

-:-:-:-

It was the journey through the calm belt that finally proved to Penguin what everybody had been telling him all along. The Acanthuridae was an experimental submarine. Oh the kiroseky mesh implanted on the hull of the submarine worked as it was supposed too, as long as they were sailing the surface, but the moment they dived . . . well there was something about the sound of the propulsion systems, or for all Penguin knew the air systems, that still drew the attention of the sea kings. They could sail on the surface, but with the calm belt being the calm belt that would take forever and sitting in one spot was not a good idea either. So in the end the kiroseky stone only did so much. They were no better off than the war ship, worse even. Still with the weapons system and speed the sub possessed they made it across, barely.

It had been perhaps thirty minutes after they crossed through into North Blue, Penguin had just begun to relax again. The props were fine, the engines weren't showing any sign of strain, according to his calculations they still had enough fuel to make it to the next island, and that was even if they pushed straight through without taking any time to sail the surface while the superiors talked. Sailing spared the generators. Mouse, the slave boy Shachi had treated, was over in the corner waiting patiently for any job that might be given to him. It had been Shachi's idea to call the kid "Mouse"; he was both the smallest and the quietest person on the boat. Penguin had no idea what the kid's actual name was. But it was Mouse that actually saved their butts this time.

"Um . . . hey . . . Mr. Petty Officer . . . Mr. Penguin, Sir?" he called out hesitantly from across the room. Penguin turned to look at him. "I . . . I know it's supposed to be hot in here because of all the machines and things, but is it supposed to be that hot? Sir?" and the lad pointed at the temperature gauge on one of the walls. It was way above normal levels. Penguin cursed and ran to hit the emergency button on the wall shouting orders as he went. How had they not caught this before? Had they just been too stressed on the voyage through the calm belt to notice the rising heat? In an instant the red lights located at intervals throughout the room lit up and Penguin could feel the submarine began to slow as those in the control room got the signal and took appropriate action.

Seconds later Shachi was in the room demanding explanations, though he had only to see the temperature gauge to understand. "All of you start going over everything, any abnormalities report them immediately. Penguin," he started to shout, but Penguin was already prepared for what he knew the next order would be. "Get on the com and report to the X.O. what's going on. Then help me look over the transformers. I have a feeling one of them is cracked."

"Not good." Penguin grumbled, "In here, between the battery and the engines, that going to mean a full stand still until it's fixed."

"Well, you'd better hope that's all it is!" Shachi snapped back, "Because at least with those we have the required parts to replace it. If it's something else . . ." he didn't finish that sentence and he didn't need too. Seconds later Penguin had the X.O. on the com, and by patching it into the speaker system they were able to give a running account as they worked instead of having someone playing middle man and standing around doing nothing while the others searched for a solution.

They worked for about ten minutes, searching everything with a fine tooth comb, eventually proving Shachi's theorem and finding a small crack in the top of one of the transformers, not large, but enough to cause problems for the liquid inside. "You two get the spare up here!" Shachi ordered two of the slaves breathing a sigh of relief that this was all it was. But before Penguin could congratulate him Captain Bligh was in the room.

The effect of the man's presence was instantaneous. The slaves shrank back against the wall, Penguin found himself setting his feet firmly in a fighting stance before he knew it, and he could see Shachi's back straighten as his chin came up defiantly though he didn't say a word.

"What I want to know, is why you two found it necessary to stop this ship?" the man practically spat in Shachi's face. Penguin had to admit that he couldn't fault the man his self-control. Shachi simple took a deep breath and keeping his voice calm answered the question as directly and precisely as he could.

"We have a cracked transformer down here, sir. It took some time to locate, and I wanted to be sure nothing else was damaged. That last sea king attack might have done it, or I can think of several other . . ."

"That does not explain why we're stopped." The larger man growled.

"Sir," Shachi continued as if he had never been interrupted. "If we had continued without first locating the problem, and if we continue now, without replacing the damaged transformer and it explodes . . ."

"Then replace it so we can get moving again, Master Chief!" Captain Bligh's face was turning red, and for a moment, Penguin was sure he had seen Shachi's fists clench and unclench. His own temper was beginning to boil, not for the first time on this voyage.

"As temperamental as these things are it could take a significant amount of time to replace properly."

"Do not make me repeat myself." Blight growled, "Fix it quickly so we can get moving."

Shachi's hand twitched and Penguin gritted his teeth. He knew the signs that the man was about to lose it, even if no one else did. But Shachi only took another deep breath and spoke again.

"May I speak freely?" he asked.

Bligh blinked at him suddenly surprised. "Go ahead."

"Then, with all due respect, sir, you hired me to do a job, and I will not sacrifice my quality of work because you're in a hurry. Neither will I willingly put the lives of this crew in danger just to meet a deadline, so either you let me do my job as I see fit, or you relieve me of my duties and assign the work to someone else."

"If anyone else had spoken to me that way . . ." Bligh's face was still red but he only shook his head, "let's just say you are very lucky no one else on board is qualified to run this thing. Fix this mess and report to me when you're finished."

-:-:-:-

Bepo really didn't understand what the big deal was. Lady Annette was another year older. So was he, so was her father, so was cook, so was everybody else Bepo knew. Alright so he could understand celebrating the return of someone who hadn't been to the island in a very long time, but had far as he could tell no one really knew the people who had arrived in the marine warship and that strange boat that arrived from under the water that morning in port. Yet, this party seemed as much for the strange blond man called an ambassador as it was for Annette. Either way Bepo was uncomfortable.

Not only was he surrounded by a bunch of humans in fancy clothes that he was supposed to be careful of, but Annette had wrapped his branded leg in a bandage to hide the mark, something she had never thought necessary to do before, and he was supposed to pretend to limp so no one would ask too many questions. He'd asked if he couldn't hide in the library and spend the time looking at all the maps he liked, but Annette said he had to be at the party and he had to wear the bandage. She told any one who did ask he had had gotten into the barn and upset a pitchfork. There were two problems with the story that Bepo could see. The first was that he'd never be that stupid. The second was that he kept forgetting to limp. Fortunately Law was there and the man would raise an eyebrow anytime he saw the minkman had forgotten. Unfortunately Bepo forgot so many times that eventually Law wandered over and, under the guise of checking the fake bandages, advised Bepo simply to find a corner and stay there. Bepo did as he was told, feeling utterly neglected.

Sitting in one spot was almost worse than wandering through the crowd. One, he was nowhere near the banquet table, though he could smell the food from across the room, and it smelled delicious, and two the corner he had chosen was near a space of floor where the humans seemed to find entertainment in pairing off and doing a series of intricate steps in time to the music being played by another group of humans near the far wall. Nothing at all like what he would call a dance. Watching them spin around in their brightly colored outfits was making Bepo dizzy. Heaving a sigh he laid his head down across his paws perking him a little as he saw Lady Annette drag Law out onto the floor, obviously expecting him to spin her around as well.

Law too seemed uncomfortable. He was smiling, but it was a fixed smile and when Bepo caught his scent it was strong with worry. He had spent half the night ducking out of rooms when Marines wandered in, always some excuse about being needed elsewhere, and when Bepo could see him the man seemed to be constantly checking that his white cotton gloves were still on as well as watching every corner of the room all at the same time. The bear-mink wondered what it was that could make Law so nervous. Did he not like parties either? The bear vaguely remembered Annette saying something about hoping he wouldn't find a way to duck out of this one. Bepo watched as he moved her in time to the music with the other humans. Law actually seemed to be better than some of them and Lady Annette was laughing with pleasure. After a few minutes the music faded out and Law quickly led her towards Bepo's corner before it could start up again.

"Don't be surprised if in the next few days I disappear." He was saying, "You see I'm going back to sea again. Don't worry if I don't say goodbye. I will however promise you this. In a couple years I'll come back, and if you're willing take you with me for short trip around North Blue."

"Law? Why?" Annette gasped her voice full of surprise.

Law hesitated and to Bepo it seemed he was trying to make up his mind. "I - I don't have anything to give you as a birthday gift," he finally admitted, "and besides, isn't that your dream? To leave this island and see some of the world."

"It's what I want more then anything, " Annette smiled, and she pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Thank you. That's the best gift I've received all night." She flashed a beaming smile over her shoulder as she walked away and Bepo couldn't understand why Law suddenly smelled incredibly puzzled and concerned.

"I only hope it's a promise I can keep." Law muttered looking at his gloves. He then turned towards Bepo kneeling down as if to scratch the bear's ears. "Speaking of promises, I think I have a way to take you with me, Bepo. Or rather a way to send for you in a few weeks," the man whispered. "If I could I'd take you with me now, but . . . I'm sorry my old friend," Law shrugged. "It's simply not possible this time, not without causing an uproar." Law looked cautiously around the room and Bepo noticed that the men designated as the Ambassador and the Rear Admiral had both entered, the rear admiral making a beeline to talk to Lady Annette. "I'm going to slip away now." Law stated, "It's highly unlikely I'll ever return to this island. Will you . . . Will you tell her I said goodnight?" Bepo nodded his head in answer as watched as Law left, feeling certain that there were some things about humans he would never understand.


	6. The Gloves Come Off

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

 **The Gloves Come Off**

Shachi had never seen anything go downhill so fast. The night before they had arrived at Krocylea's port and all the commanding officers had gone to a celebratory ball of some sort. They had returned talking and laughing, even Captain Bligh had been in a good mood, but now, just a few hours after breakfast, they were standing on the deck of their ship staring down at some sort of mob. All right, so it wasn't a mob, more like a peaceful protest. Still these peoples' timing left something to be desired. Did they not realize there was an ambassador to the world nobles living on the warship parked several slots down from the sub? Unless that was exactly why they were doing this now . . .

"Did you get a look at those signs?" he asked Penguin who was standing beside him.

Penguin sighed and put down the binoculars he'd been looking through. "Something about the World Government's port taxes cutting unfairly into a remote farmer's earnings. They say things like 'taxation without representation is theft', 'port taxes, ship out', and 'I have a family too' among other not so nice slogans."

Shachi groaned and leaned against the railing. "Whoever their governor is, however tough they think he is, these people are going to believe he's a big giant teddy bear by the time this is over."

"How bad you think things are going to get?" Penguin asked and Shachi could hear the disapproval in his voice. Not of the protesters, of the ambassador. Upon seeing the protest, the man had grabbed Captain Bligh and a contingent of men and stormed off to the governor's compound in a rage leaving the Rear Admiral in charge. Rear Admiral Hawke had ordered his men simply watch and be ready for any sign of violence. So far there had been none.

Shachi pinched the bridge of his nose. Just thinking about it was giving him a headache. "Best case scenario? Every person down there is going to find themselves facing a hefty fine. Worst case . . . they'll single out the ringleaders and schedule an execution . . ."

-:-:-:-

Execution. Bepo knew what that word meant at least, although he hadn't really understood a whole lot of the rest of the conversation that floated around him. All politics. At the moment Bepo was spread out beside the governor's chair, which the ambassador currently occupied, allowing the man to scratch his ears. He wasn't enjoying it, but Annette had ordered him to behave so he tolerated the petting, using it as an excuse to attempt to figure out what was going on and perhaps tell Annette later. She had been ordered from the room. And Law, Bepo knew Law would be very interested in this if the bear-minkman could get to him and report.

Fifteen minutes ago the ambassador, a tall lean man with blond hair and a pointed chin, had stormed into the compound demanding High-Lord Elgar's presence, and railing against the citizens of the island in a string of profanities hardly befitting a man of his position. Now he had calmed down, visibly. Bepo could still smell the furry rolling off him, and could still occasionally hear him mutter under his breath "the nerve of these people, challenging my . . . the practices of the world government . . ." High-Lord Elgar was reasoning with him; assuring him that the instigators would found, arrested, and fined; reminding him that it had been a peaceful protest, no one had been harmed, and that all the people were trying to do was make sure their voices were heard.

"There is no need for anybody to die." The governor stated, though Bepo could smell the anger coming from him as well. Anger mixed with fear.

"I want an example made of these people! Ordinary citizens cannot challenge the world government and expect to get away with it. If you let this pass what happens next?"

"The king will need . . ."

"I OUTRANK THE KING!" the ambassador suddenly shouted and the room fell silent for a moment before Governor Elgar dared one more plea. "That is to say I was appointed to represent the World Nobles and they outrank-"

"But surely death is not necessary, if you sell them into slavery the point will be made just as easily and they can be put to some productive use."

"And then what? Risk their relatives starting an uproar in the attempt to break them free? No, you find the ringleaders, and you execute them at sunset. What's more I want every citizen within riding distance of this place to watch. The point's not made if they can ignore it."

"But sir,"

"You execute those men or I will execute you! Do I make myself clear!"

"Yes sir." The governor bowed his head in acceptance just as there was a knock on the door and the captain of the town guard entered. They had found the instigators in question.

"Good, set up stakes in the town square and tie these men to them. Leave them there with a guard for the rest of the day so that this island can know what awaits those who challenge my, I mean the World Government's authority."

The attitudes some men possessed made Bepo sick.

-:-:-:-

Ten hours. In ten hours he would safely off this island and away from the marines. He would be safely away from a rear admiral and an ambassador for the world government. He would be safely away from Tiberius's questions and disapproving eyes. And from there he could better plan and implement a way to say Anne. The only thing he would miss would be a very few people, the number of which could be counted on one hand.

It had surprised him to find a vessel with dealings shady enough to risk a night sailing in the Krocylea port. Law had expected to need to hop from vessel to vessel before he found one capable of taking him where he needed to go next. But it seemed his luck was in today. He was headed home now, mentally checking off everything he needed to pack. There wasn't much.

"What are we going to do?" Leana-san's alarmed voice cried the moment he entered. Before Law could so much as rush to the living room where he was sure she sat in her usual spot by the window he heard Tiberius answer.

"Absolutely nothing. If they were going to protest they couldn't have picked a worse time."

Law groaned and moved through to the hallway outside the other room where he could hear everything without being seen. He'd seen the protesters that morning when he'd been looking for a ship and hadn't thought anything about it. It happened from time to time, the farmers, or the tradesmen grew discontented over something and couldn't get time to speak to the governor so they help a protest march to force the man's ear. Always peaceful it usually brought things to the bargaining table. It was such a part of the island's culture, or the kingdom's even, that it hadn't occurred to Law to even worry over how the ambassador for the World Government would respond. Apparently the man had responded poorly.

He listened a while longer cringing with each new detail that was revealed, and when the topic had been thoroughly discussed to the point that it was beginning to go in circles he slipped upstairs with no one the wiser. All he had to do was keep his head down until sunset. If he could last until then he'd be on a boat away from the island. All he had to do was lie low and stay out of sight of the marines until it was time to go. All he had to do was spend the next ten hours convincing himself it was okay to let five innocent men die.

-:-:-:-

Krocylea was nothing like Penguin had expected. He had heard of North Blue's freezing winters and piles of snow on top of piles of snow, but now that they had let him off of the submarine he could see that it really wasn't that much different than many other areas. True he could see drifts still frozen in the shadows of the buildings, and the wind still bore a sharp chill to it, but spring was beginning to emerge, there were buds just starting to show on the trees and there were patches of green showing though the brown grass where the snow had melted. Now if only he could be allowed to explore a bit. Visit the shops, talk to the local people, and maybe eat a meal at the tavern he could see across the square. The smells wafting from its kitchen were particularly inviting. But unfortunately tourism was not going to be an option.

Penguin had been assigned; no ordered (assigning implied some sort of voluntary participation) to watch the five men who had been singled out as the planners of the protest that had taken place that morning. Those men were currently tied to a set of stakes that had been planted at the center of the town square. It was an interesting feature, the town square, with the city built up around three sides and the wide road to the docks leading from the forth. Anyone in the square could see what was happening in the shipyards, and anyone in port could see the square. From where he stood Penguin could just make out the form belonging to the rear admiral leaning against the railing at the bow of the warship. The coat flapping in the wind was a dead giveaway.

Penguin shook his head. He wasn't supposed to be watching Rear Admiral Hawke, he was supposed to be watching for any sign of the city folk rising up to take back their men. So far he'd seen nothing that looked even remotely rebellious. The city folk who dared pass by the prisoners simply shook their heads looking sorrowful and afraid. Some ran past without even looking, one woman burst into tears and fled into a nearby shop. By this point in the day the notices of crime and punishment had gone out and everybody knew these men would die with the setting sun. Cautiously he made his way over to where Shachi stood watching the other end.

"Hey, you think the Governor will manage to talk him out of this?" Penguin muttered referring to the fact that the ambassador was still holed up in the governor's compound even though it was now well past noon.

"For all I know the governor agreed to what he wanted immediately and they proceeded to throw a banquette." Shachi hissed back shooting him a frown. Penguin winced and returned to his post, and for the first time since being assigned as Shachi's junior partner he was beginning to understand how the other man had become so cynical.

It was a good thing had had returned to his post because bare seconds after setting his feet he could make out Captain Bligh, returning to the ship, leading a contingent of men that surrounded the ambassador like an honor guard. There was purpose in their steps and as the group drew near Penguin could make out the satisfaction in the ambassador's face. Those guarding the prisoners saluted, but no acknowledgment was made as Bligh's team passed. They were about five feet beyond the stakes when a clear voice rang out "Wait!" echoing among the buildings and every man of them stopped and turned to look.

"Wait, please wait!" it was a woman's voice, belonging to one of the prettiest angles Penguin had ever seen. Running down the road skirt held in one hand, cheeks red with cold she had obviously followed the ambassador from the mansion. Penguin had to force himself not to stare at her long curling golden hair, or clear green eyes. He had to force himself to take in the fact that her white dress nearly matched the bear running behind her. Wait a minute, there was a bear behind her. A gigantic mass of white fur with a black nose and beady black eyes, that appeared to be wearing shorts. The thing paused beside her as the girl caught her breath.

"Please, please, my lord, reconsider." She reached forwards as if to grab the ambassador's sleeve. All he did was snap his fingers. One moment the woman had been reaching her hand out and the next Captain Bligh was standing where she had been and the girl was flying back her feet stumbling as they searched for solid ground. Penguin moved without even thinking, two steps, three, and he had caught her, his hands supporting her shoulders as she sat down on the pavement. There was a white blur as the bear leapt between its mistress and the man who had knocked her aside. Teeth showing a low growl issuing from the back of its throat it started to rise on its hind feet, Penguin distractedly noticed that one was bandaged, but the sharp snap of "Bepo, No," brought it back to all fours. The bear looked over its shoulder at the girl with a look that Penguin could only describe as reproachful. For a moment Penguine wondered where he had heard the name Bepo before.

"My lady," Captain Bligh rumbled looking somewhat sorry for his actions, "It was not my intention to knock you down, but you must understand how careful we must be of his ambassadorship's person!"

She nodded and moved to her knees. Penguin caught his breath not quite believing what he was seeing. Around him the other guards shifted uncomfortably trying to maintain their posts but watch what was happening at the same time. Only Shachi dared move forwards saluting as he came to stand beside Penguin, his stance saying he was ready for anything.

"My Lord," the woman began placing her hand in front of her on the frozen pavement and bowing forward, "My Lord I beg an audience of you." She kept bowing until her forehead rested on top her hands, not quite touching the ground but close to it. "My Lord I beg that you might find enough favor to listen to my plea."

The man in question burst out laughing, "And so Lady Annette the governor's daughter comes on bended knee, the second in line for the Neritm throne abases herself to ask a favor!" Penguin barely stopped himself from doing a double take. This woman was an heir to the throne, this was a princess with her face in the dirt, and the man before him was behaving as if this behavior should be expected. "Very well," the man chuckled, "I will listen. You may even look at me as you speak." Now he was mocking her, but the woman, Penguin had to admire her self-control, only lifted her head and had her say.

"My lord, these men here have committed no crime... they have complained, true, and they had assembled, waving signs when they should have been working their farms, but by Neritm law that is not a crime. I can see how my lord might feel offended, after all those you represent have done, this is how the people treat their ambassador, but surely as disrespectful as their actions were it is not deserving of death."

The ambassador only laughed harder drawing one hand down his pointed chin "If you don't want me to kill them I supposed you like your father think slavery a viable option? And then let me guess you would buy them from me and send them home?"

The hope that suddenly filled her face was almost too painful for Penguin to look at. He knew enough to know things wouldn't be made nearly that easy for her, but Lady Annette was nodding her head, "Yes, yes if you agree I would buy their lives from you."

"Well then it is only fair that you know the price I require in exchange for their lives." And he named a price that was so high Penguin could see Shachi's eyebrows climbing past his sunglasses. Lady Annette's face fell and she bit her lip in a way that made Shachi wonder if she wasn't about to burst into tears. "It is as I thought," the man chuckled, "your father owns your purse strings and the little allowance you have is not enough . . . but . . . there are other ways for a beautiful woman such as yourself to pay me back. " His continued laughter left no room for interpretation as to exactly what he meant. And the slow reddening of the girls ears indicated that she knew the meaning as well.

Penguin felt his temper rising and the muffled angry cries of the prisoners around their gags were enough to show that they shared his opinion. Even Captain Bligh managed to look abashed.

"My lord ambassador if I may be so bold as to point out that her father, as he was sharing with us last night, intends a most prodigious political match for her too . . ."

"Yes, yes, it would be rude of me to deprive our host of that . . . I suppose I shall find some other tidbit to entertain me . . ." and still laughing he walked away the contingent of marines moving to bring their circle back around him, some shooting guarded glances over their shoulders.

Beside him Shachi moved to offer her a hand up, shooting a cautions look at the white bear as he did so. But the bear just tilted its head to the side and yawned. For a moment Penguin thought the yawn was a calculated movemeant to show off a mouthful of teeth and imply what happen to them if they upset his mistress, but, no. The bear wouldn't be that intelligent, would it? There were the minkment of course, but one of them wouldn't be pretending to be a pet… it was insulting to even wonder.

"That price," she whispered sounding almost defeated, "we could sell all we own and still barely manage to cover a quarter of it."

She looked as if she were about the cry, so Penguin did the only thing he could think of. He offered her his handkerchief. A clean one of course. "Imagine talking to a lady like that! If he weren't ambassador of the world nobles I'd . . ."

"Penguin, finish that sentence and you're as good as a dead man!" Shachi snapped in a whispered hiss.

"But Shachi, I . . ." Penguin began to protest not quite seeing how what he'd been about to say could be dangerous.

"Think what you want but keep your mouth shut, Petty Officer!" Shachi continued turning his attention to Lady Annette who was gently dabbing at her eyes. She gave a shaky smile and a small laugh. "That's the entire problem isn't?" she started softly, "that he's an ambassador to the world nobles. No one here can override him, not even the King. To do so would be treason. "

"My lady," Shachi replied, and Penguin couldn't quite place the emotion that was playing across the other man's face, "should you desire an escort, my companion and I would be most willing to walk you home."

"No, no I can manage," She folded the handkerchief and handed it back to Penguin, "Bepo will keep me safe." As if in answer to the comment the bear stuck his nose under her hand. She turned as if to go but then suddenly looked back towards the harbor where the Ambassador and his men could be seen walking the last few paces to the warship. "That man cannot be swayed and my father will not disobey him. As for my uncle, not even being King grants him the authority here . . . yet there may be others . . . it's only a shot in the dark I have no proof other then my own instincts, but it is a chance . . . I will see them freed if I have to risk everything to do it!" Shaking her head she began to slowly walk back the way she had come, the bear lumbering along at her heels.

Penguin sighed and looked as Shachi, "Master Chief, are you sure there's nothing we can do? I mean we're marines, we're supposed to enforce the law, how is this justice!"

"I did try to warn you that I'd been ordered to do some awful things in my career." Shachi reminded him gently, but Penguin wasn't biting.

"What if we did something cut their bonds before the execution, let some rebel slip the guard. We could free the slaves and let them take care of everything. This island's got enough woods to provide cover there's probably some caves too . . ." he didn't see the hand that suddenly boxed him across the ears in time to doge it.

"Again, Penguin? You're talking about mutiny. You know what the punishment for that is?"

"No worse than what these men already face." Penguin grumbled gesturing at the prisoners tied to their stakes.

"Just, shut up!"

"But,"

"SHUT UP!" Shachi suddenly roared in his face. Penguin noticed that the man's eyes were wide and his face had gone white, "I should report this, Penguin, I'm supposed too, but I don't want to see you die as well. Go back to your post, stay there, and keep your trap shut!" Penguin longed to hit the other man, he even clenched his fist for a moment, but he turned on his heels barely managing to keep his own composure when he realized that Rear Admiral Hawke had arrived on the scene and stood no more than five feet away. He saluted, waiting for the hammer to come down, but the Rear Admiral only smiled and walked past him.

"Problems, Master Chief?" he asked Shachi.

"No, Sir." Shachi replied quickly, "just a slight disagreement over ethics, but the petty officer knows his duty and he'll see it through."

"Good," Rear Admiral Hawke smiled, "Good."

-:-:-:-

Dusk seemed to approach quickly that night, perhaps because so many of the island's inhabitants were dreading it. The sky had gone from pale blue, to orange streaked gold, to pink, fading into purple in under a half hour, and now the melancholy tones of twilight were beginning to set in. Yet a small sliver of sun still peaked over the western horizon and so Law knew he still had plenty of time.

He pulled a black hoodie over his head as he gazed out the window towards the town square. He couldn't see anything from here but he could hear the sounds of the gathering crowd. Scrubbing his hand through his hair he shoved the last couple items into his rucksack before drawing the bag closed, and sliding his nodachi's scabbard through a loop that had been designed for it. Law gave the room one last glance before pulling on his coat, the charcoal grey wool easily hiding the Jolly Roger that adorned the front of the hoodie once it was buttoned up. Beckett had stated he would watch the news reports, Law felt it was best to declare his allegiances openly just in case he got drawn into any unpleasantness.

He slipped the rucksack over his shoulder, grabbed his hat from the desk, and walked out the door and down the stairs. The others had already gone ahead joining the crowd mandatorily watching the execution. He locked the door behind him, slipping the key under the doormat where they could find it later. Law didn't even worry about attempting to catch up with his family, he had already said his goodbyes and there was no point in doing it all over again. Besides, if something happened they would be safer not knowing when exactly he left. Not even bothering to look back he set out down the street.

Law had walked two, maybe three blocks when he saw a figure turn a distant corner a familiar white bear following behind. Anne and Bepo. He vaguely noticed that she was out in the chill of the night without her coat. She stopped for a moment and then began running towards him. Hair flying around her face, skirt covered with grime as if she had been kneeling in the dirt, it took her only a few strides to reach him, and when she did she grabbed the front of his coat and buried her face in his chest as her whole frame was racked with sobs she had obviously been suppressing up until that point.

Law had never dealt well with tears. In his world they had served no purpose except perhaps as a release valve for pent up emotions. Tears were a sign of weakness. They were to be used only when there was no other option, and even then, if the timing was wrong they could get you killed. Needless to say, he had no idea what to do. Had it been anyone else, any other time, he might have shrugged her off and sent her in the direction of the nearest farm wife for comfort. But here and now when the only other person present was Bepo, the best Law could manage was to stand still, let her cry, and pray to God that there was some sort of rational explanation for the tears, something he could fix.

Fortunately the cry lasted only a minute or two before she was able to regain her composure. The first coherent words he heard her sob were, "I'm not strong enough, Law. I'm not strong enough." At this, needing to see her face, he took a step back, de-tangling her hands from his jacket before she could pull the buttons loose and see the hoodie underneath. She wavered and her knees buckled. Law kept hold of her arms until she was seated on the ground her face now buried in her hands. Law fought back his annoyance. How was he supposed to know what to say when he couldn't gauge her reaction?

"I can't save them," she whispered. "There is nothing I can do to save them, I've tried every trick I know. Gone to every person I thought might possibly be able to help. The town guard, my Uncle, even a team of smugglers down at the dock that I strongly suspect run things for the spider pirate captian Ryan Beckett. They laughed in my face." She took a deep shuddering breath and looked up at him and he was struck by the shear desperation in her eyes, "I tried to buy their lives from the ambassador himself, only to realize that even if I could pay that price I had no guarantee he would honor his word. Law, you have to believe that if I had any guarantee he would honor his word I would pay any price, even my own life, I'd risk it all. But I don't have the strength, I don't have the resources." Fresh tears were beginning to fall, and still Law remained silent, squatting in front of her kneeling form, one of his hands held tightly in hers, "and so I've come to ask you to do something I cannot. Risking my life will accomplish nothing, so I've come to ask you to risk yours instead. You have Devil Fruit powers, Law. I know you don't want it to be common knowledge but- If I remember correctly they allow you to switch things with others? If you were to climb onto the roof of one of the surrounding buildings, and switch the men out for some dummies I've had prepared, we could fake their deaths and I could keep them hidden in the woods until the marines and that man leave . . ."

Law shook his head and stood. "The sphere, Anne, you've forgotten the sphere of my room glows blue, and I can't make one large enough not to be noticed. They would know what had happened immediately." He turned his face to the sky as the first few flakes of the last snow of spring began to fall. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his brain whirling through a thousand possible plans and their outcomes. _This_ was the decision he'd spent the day agonizing over, whether to let five innocent men die. Now standing in the street as the sun set and snow began to fall, listening to Anne's sobs of grief and loss, even as she tried to reason out a solution through the tears, in the moment of necessity the answer seemed so easy. It wasn't that her emotional plea got to him. In fact he was inclined to balk at the display. It wasn't that his own heart won out over his head, he kept that completely in check. It was quite simply that it was the right thing to do, and for once in his life he was free to choose to do it.

"There is another way." He said softly as Bepo approached with his ears back as if he too had no idea what to do, but wanted to stop her tears, "Would you really pay any price?"

"You know I would." She whispered keeping her eyes focused on the ground in front of her.

"I may never be able to return after this."

"I – I understand."

"It might even force a delay of your wedding as your father regains his political footing."

"I'd be grateful for that." she laughed bitterly.

"Then I'll take care of it." He stepped forward unbuttoning his coat and dropping it around her shivering shoulders. He adjusted his nodachi so he could reach it easily from his pack, and then slowly removed his gloves dropping one on top of the other on the pavement in front of her. He watched as she jerked slightly in surprise, in the past six months he had never taken the gloves off in her presence, but she kept her eye on the ground, tears still streaming down her cheeks, slowly drawing his coat closer around her. "Go home, Anne." He whispered softly. "There's no need for you to see what I'm about to do."

She did look up then, eyes locking on his knuckles, mouth silently forming the word 'death' before her focus shifted to the Jolly Roger centered on his hoodie. Her eyes widened with sudden understanding as she gazed on the round smiley depicted over a spider's web. "All this time you've been . . ." but Law was already walking away. "Bepo, go with him." He heard Anne whisper, but Law didn't look back, even as the sound of Bepo's paws pounding on the pavement caught up with him. The sun was almost completely gone now. He only had a short amount of time to pull off a miracle.

The streets to the square were deserted. The sound of his boots and Bepo's paws echoing almost eerily off the surrounding buildings. But what Law quickly realized was that he was walking into battle facing the worst odds of his entire life. Himself and a bear-minkman, against a Rear Admiral and a full warship's complement, upwards of three hundred men. "Get ready to fight, Bepo." He muttered to the bear out of the corner of his mouth, "Whatever happens next you're going to have go all out."

"All right," Bepo muttered and rose to his full nine-foot height. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

By then they were there. Law could see it spread out before him. The towns' people crowded into the square lining the perimeter, looking at each other worriedly, shifting their feet, and altogether nothing more than a group of people who would rather be anywhere else. Lining the crowd were the marines, rifles hosted on shoulders, swords drawn, but they too looked uncertain. Law noted that there were far more of them on the far side, the side closest to the port. At the center of the square were the five stakes; tied to them were five men, their bound forms slumping as if they were already defeated. There was also a pair of slaves, easily identifiable by their nondescript clothing and the metal collars around their necks, who were piling bundles of wood and stacks of dry timber about the feet of the stakes. It seemed that this ambassador would not be satisfied with a firing squad or hanging. The man was going to burn alive those who had slighted him. All right, Law could deal with that. It actually gave him a bit more time.

The ambassador had set up some sort of gilded chair a few feet in front of the stakes, where he could watch the whole thing comfortably, and Law could see another man, large of build with Captain's bars on the coat draped across his shoulders, holding a lit torch. The governor was nowhere to be seen.

Law strode forward confidently, approaching from the side of the assembly nearest to governor's compound. There were fewer people here, fewer town's folk, fewer marines, and what people there were took one look at him, one look at the jolly roger on his shirt, one look at Bepo walking like a man behind him, and made way. Some took advantage of the opportunity to slip away into the dark. They were the intelligent ones.

To the west the last sliver of sun disappeared from the horizon, from the now dark sky snowflakes fell, and in front of the crowd the captain raised his torch. Law dug deep within himself and spoke, not shouting, not yelling, but projecting his voice so that even though all he did was speak, his one word echoed off the surrounding buildings and seemed to fill the square. "Stop."

The place went silent. The captain turned, torch still held in his hand, the Ambassador sprang from his seat.

"Who dares interrupt my proceedings!" he roared, and Law strode forwards into the ring of light provided from the lamps adorning the surrounding buildings. He raised his left hand so that his knuckles were clearly visible, and smirked as he uttered one word more.

"Room."


	7. The Man Who Left Everything in Shambles

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you everyone who reviewed ^_^ If anyone needs a quick chapter recap check out those done by sarge1130!

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

 **The Man Who Left Everything in Shambles**

It was as if a blue bubble suddenly surrounded the town square, or most of it. One edge seemed to include the fronts of several buildings the other falling as much as ten feet short of the opposite side. Shachi had encountered such a thing only once before. He had only a vague idea of what was going on. His best guess was that the stranger who had entered the square moments before had a devil fruit ability. Was it that ability? Than man? In the present it didn't matter. It was like watching some sort of accident take place when he was just out of reach to do anything useful. All Shachi could do was stand there and watch, feeling as though everything was spinning out of control, the lamps placed on the surrounding buildings giving off just enough light to see as fresh snowflakes began to fall on his head.

The square went silent, the town's people backing up and pressing against the marines who were supposed to be keeping them contained. Some of the braver locals squeezed through the ranks and slipped off towards their homes. Some of the braver marines let them. Out of the corner of his eye Shachi noticed Penguin allowing a teenage girl, two women and a man to move past him. The younger woman was cradling an infant, the older woman, being led by the man, appeared to be blind. Shachi said nothing, more interested in the whispers that seemed to be breaking out."

"His shirt, look at his shirt."

"Isn't that Ryan Beckett's mark?"

"No, look at his hand."

"Those tattoos, what do they say?"

"Death?"

"Death!"

It didn't take Shachi much to figure out who he was facing once he'd been told what the tattoos read. His brain flashed back over the months to the dark night where he'd been left alone in lieutenant Hodge's office to sober up. He'd entertained himself for several hours by looking through a stack of wanted posters, and one stuck out vividly in his mind. "The Surgeon of Death!" he whispered. No one heard. It still nagged at him how familiar that poster had seemed, how he still couldn't quite place it.

"Who are you!" the ambassador roared his own voice echoing around the square as well. "I demand to know who you are!"

It wasn't difficult to miss the stranger's smile, as he answered, "I am nothing more or less then the man you cower from in your worst nightmares." But he made no move, and for a moment Shachi wondered why, but another pair of civilians slipped past him and he realized that the longer they stood there talking the emptier the square was becoming. That, he reasoned, was probably exactly why Captain Bligh had not attacked the pirate yet. As tough as the man liked to be on his fellow marines, the accidental slaughter of civilians did not look good on a military record.

"Neither does mutiny."

Shachi jumped as the X.O.'s voice whispered in his ear and the other man smiled. "I'll bet you didn't realize you were muttering to yourself." The man moved to Shachi's other sided, grabbed Penguin's elbow, and pulled the petty officer over so he could talk to them both at once as a light auburn haired woman in a brown newsboy cap slipped past. His low voice was audible even over the Ambassador's screaming. "Listen, I know Penguin's muttered some comments that could be considered mutinous, just as I know you never reported him, Master Chief." Both men jerked but the X.O.'s grip on their shoulders tightened. "No, don't look at me, pretend I'm giving you orders. Here's the question, if I make a move here and now, will you two follow?"

They nodded the affirmative and Penguin muttered a determined, "aye, Sir."

"Now, none of this sits well with me either, and there are several aboard the Warship who feel the same way. We've decided we need a change in career as it were. There's only so much of Captain Bligh a man can take and I've had enough. I think with some good planning and a little luck we can get out of here and take those men and their families with us. There's been only a skeleton crew and the slaves manning the submarine, and most of the crew is here in the square. I've had the watch switched with men loyal to me, they should be removing the collars and dumping them overboard any minute now, so there we've got our ride. And with everyone focused on that Pirate at the moment . . ."

-:-:-:-

Law couldn't help but smirk as he heard the whispers spreading through the crowd. Most were coming from the marines. And the longer he waited the more panicked those marines were beginning to look. Several even seemed to be quietly slipping away towards their warship at the docks. The civilian crowd was thinning out nicely as well, all except the families of the victims who seemed to be set off in a tearful huddle in one corner. Law had to wince inwardly, he knew most of them, had treated most of them. Had he really been so willing to let these people watch their loved ones die not so long ago? More whispers caught his ear and he turned his attention back to the marines. That was where it belonged.

It didn't take long for those same whispers to reach the ears of the men in charge. "The Surgeon of Death," the larger man with the captain's bars paled as he spoke the words, "isn't he . . . Where is he, where is Beckett, surly your captain is here somewhere . . . if he has an argument to settle -"

Law smiled, and the man paled further.

"My lord ambassador I must recommend that you retire to the warship until further notice. I will inform you when the situation has been remedied," the captain began, motioning for the ambassador to leave as quickly as possible. Several marines marched forwards to surround the man and then began pushing their way out. Law let it happen, it was one less thing he'd have to worry about. The Captain was still demanding answers, and after a few moments Law decided the square was now clear enough to enlighten him.

"You are mistaken," he said bluntly, "this time I'm acting alone."

The Captain's thick lips twisted in a sneer. "Alone? You expect me to believe that one man marches in to face a full company of marines? Let me tell you what I think. There was a girl here earlier, the governor's daughter, seemed to think she could talk his lordship into letting matters drop. I think that when she realized she couldn't she turned to you. Probably hired every swindler and pirate in the area to pull some stunt, and any minute now they'll come pouring into this square. I think you're just standing there as a decoy. Well, let me make one thing clear, Pirate. I intend to see you tied to a stake and burnt along with your friends for your crimes, and if that girl asked for your help then she is aiding and abetting criminal behavior and will be punished accordingly as well!"

Law couldn't help but laugh, "Do you really think that a man like me would be so easily swayed by the tears of a pretty woman, had he not already been intending to do as she asked?"

"A man like you?" The captain growled.

"The kind who'll march in and face a full company of marines alone, and I am alone." Law reached back and drew Kikoku from its sheath, "do not make me repeat myself a second time." He stated pointing the cursed blade at the man.

"Law!" a voice suddenly roared, "Law, what is the meaning of this" and he saw his former master pushing his way to the front of the crowd. There was no sign of Leana-san, or Rebecca, or Clarissa, or even of Pedar for which he was grateful. "You swore to me you wouldn't put anyone on this island in danger!" Tiberius roared.

"No I swore I would never let my position on Beckett's crew endanger anyone who didn't already know the risk." Law stated, gesturing with one hand. "As you can see everyone present has had more than enough time to leave the square. If you don't wish to be cut I suggest you leave yourself."

"You wouldn't dare hurt me," Tibereus all but snarled.

Law sighed, "I must ask that you don't force me to make that choice. Leave, please."

With a roar of challenge the older physician charged him, arms raised, obviously intending to grab and suppress Law if at all possible. With a look on his face that said quite plainly that this was not the sort of thing he had been expecting to have to deal with, the younger man sidestepped the attack bringing the hilt of the nodachi around to strike the man at the base of the skull. Tiberius crumpled in and unconscious heap some feet behind him and Law felt a slight pang of regret. "Pity we couldn't be on the same side of this matter." Though by his display Law guessed that whatever happened after, Tiberius and those associated with him would now be free from blame. Very clever that.

There was a second roar, this time by a group of marines that had been motioned forward by the Captain. They were small in number and Law didn't even think twice about the appropriate reaction. He simply struck out once, twice, three times seemingly hitting nothing but air, but the marines' bodies fell apart before they had gone more then five or six steps. The air was thick with their howls. "Shambles," Law muttered, and with an upward twist of his free hand their jumbled up bodies began to fly through the air, separated heads still yelling, calling to one another and their comrades on the ground, attempting to figure out what exactly was going on.

-:-:-:-

With one eye on the commotion Shachi was working his way through the ranks up one side of the square. He kept to the back of the lines hoping not to be seen, but knowing that if he was, there was a very high probability that the others would think he was trying only to get behind the pirate. He was more concerned with whether the Surgeon of Death would think he was going to attack. The severed heads, arms, legs, and torsos flying through the air, still obviously living, were enough to give any man pause, and while Shachi had never considered himself particularly brave, he could see the hesitation and flat out fear in some of his comrades faces.

Captain Bligh roared another set of orders and another group ran forward comprised mostly of those who feared the captain more then the Devil Fruit abilities they had just seen displayed. Shachi used the opportunity provided and raced for the nearest prisoner while the Pirate's attention was focused elsewhere, but the man was fast. He made quick work of the second charge, sending those men's limbs to float among their companions, and shifted his attention back to Shachi. Shachi cursed mentally wishing he'd waited to pull his knife, but he kept going, sliding to a stop behind the first steak and slipping his knife behind the ropes that bound the prisoner even as the Surgeon of Death swung his blade towards him obviously angling to avoid hitting the prisoner, his devil fruit powers allowing the strike to slice through the stake's wood from a distance like a hot knife through butter. Shachi felt his hair move slightly and knew that any moment his head was about to be severed from his body. He wondered vaguely what that would feel like, but kept slicing at the ropes anyway.

The Pirate pulled his strike. The top of the stake crashed to the ground even as their eyes locked. Shachi slid his blade through the last of the rope setting the bound man free, and the Pirate suddenly nodded, then smirked and turned his attention back to Captain Bligh. There was a hint of recognition in that expression. Shachi moved on to the next prisoner, and the next one after that. Each time he freed a man he gave hurried instructions for them to grab their families, and anyone else in the square they believed to be in danger, and make a run for the submarine. They would have to rebuild their lives elsewhere.

It was as he was freeing the fifth and final prisoner, an older gentleman with gray hair and a thinning beard, that the Surgeon of Death spoke to him. The man's voice seeming entirely calm in spite of the situation, "Tell me, Marine-ya, a rear Admiral came with you, correct? Where is he?"

"Probably still on the warship," Shachi answered as he sawed at the ropes, "he has the bad habit of allowing Captain Bligh to deal with everything until he asks for help, well in this case it actually works in our favor."

"Our?"

Shachi looked at him, for the first time registering where and how they had met before. Before he or Penguin had left home there had been an impressive boy who had stopped them from beating up a smart mouthed bear-mink. For a man with this level of power and skill he'd normally expect someone in say their late thirties, but this pirate was closer to his own age or a very little younger.

"For the time being our goals seem to be the same." Shachi answered matter-of-factly. "In fact, if you need a way out of here we'd be happy to give you a ride. There's a submarine at the end of the docks. We've already commandeered it . . ." with those words Shachi sliced through the last of the bonds and he moved to escort the prisoner to safety, but a sudden thought made him stop and turn back. "Oh, if the rear admiral does decide to participate, you'd be well advised to deal with him before he draws his sword. I've never seen him lose once that blade is freed." And pushing the freed man ahead of him, towards the last group of waiting civilians, Shachi began to make his way through the chaos.

The pirate's devil fruit created bubble glowed blue, body parts spun through the air, men shouted and charged only to be sliced apart, severed heads screamed for someone to help them, and Captain Bligh roared orders though he never engaged in battle himself. As Shachi ran he heard the man shout the words, "the prisoners are escaping, shoot them. Never mind hitting anyone else, SHOOT THEM!"

-:-:-:-

The first thing Bepo smelled was fear. The humans in the square were feeling the emotion so strongly that the air was thick with it. He own hackles rose in response. When Law stepped into the square and spoke surprise and anger seemed to rise in the air, and when his sphere coated the area, panic set in.

Bepo himself stayed patiently out of the way, standing a few feet behind Law and watching as first one group and then another tried to attack. For a moment he thought about attacking the familiar smelling ginger haired man in sunglasses who ran in from the side, but that marine stopped at the stakes and began cutting loose prisoners. It wasn't until the last one was free that Bepo had any idea of what he was supposed to do, or how he could be any help at all. It was as the ginger haired marine was running away giving the prisoners directions, that Bepo had an idea. "Should I help them?" he asked Law, and the human male nodded.

But before he could move forward a cry of "Shoot them" echoed through the square.

"Bepo!" Law snapped but the bear had moved before the man had even uttered a word. He knew well what it was like to be shot, and he could easily see a group of marine leveling their weapons at the trail of running prisoners, taking aim, getting ready to fire. He was in the midst of them before any could even think to pull a trigger.

Bepo knew from experience that when men thought of a bear fighting, even a bear minkman, they expected lots of running, teeth, claws, and swiping paws. Bepo was certainly capable of fighting that way, but he preferred not to. His mind quickly recalled everything Mumei had ever taught him about fighting (the man had thought it amusing to teach Bepo) or seen him teach Annette, everything he had ever learned from the warriors of his own home. And though he still let out a low growl from the back of his throat the marines fell victim, not to claws, but to a number of swift kicks from Bepo's right hind paw. As if to prove his point as the marines fell back before him Bepo suddenly struck his favorite pose, the standing crane.

-:-:-:-

If the floating bodies were not still alive Penguin supposed the whole event would be classified as a massacre. But they were alive, and he had the sneaking suspicion that whatever else happened, there would be no actual casualties associated with the Surgeon of Death. No, at this point he was far more likely to be injured by friendly fire then find himself floating about the blue dome with his comrades. Not that Penguin particularly wanted to find himself in either position.

At the moment things were going exactly as planned, if a bit chaotically. The X.O. had disappeared back towards the sub to get everything ready for the quick departure that was obviously going to be necessary, under the guise of returning Mouse and the other slave who had been stacking wood around the stakes to the submarine. Penguin assumed both were now free of their shackles. Shachi had successfully freed the prisoners and seemed to be directing them back to said sub while simultaneously fighting against marines that had finally realized he had changed sides, and seemingly arguing with what Penguin thought was lady Annette's ice-bear. The ice-bear presented no end of puzzles to Penguin's brain, this situation felt so familiar, but at the moment he had his own mission to complete.

The X.O. had thought everything out thoroughly despite having done so at the last minute. While he and his men took the sub, and while Shachi freed the prisoners, Penguin had been slipping in and out among the other marines, whispering rumors about the Surgeon of Death (most of them created off the top of his head), muttering about where the rear admiral was, musing aloud about the number of trips the captain had made to sickbay on the journey over (completely true), and generally heightening their sense of panic. It was for this reason that he was not surprised that the lines broke the second the Pirate decimated the fourth group to attack him. They had no hope of winning, they knew it, and at the sight of Lieutenant Goldstein's head flying past, a man renowned for his fearlessness on the battlefield, something snapped.

Marines threw their weapon to the ground, turned tail, and began to run for the warship. It was closer, easier to reach, and besides the rear admiral was there. Penguin stayed. Perhaps it was foolish, but he could still see Shachi giving directions to the civilians, turning to face the few marines who had chosen to pursue him instead of run, and holding ground for those civilians to escape. Penguin had no intention of leaving without him; in fact he began to make his way across the square towards the other man's position intending to end this situation quickly if at all possible.

Captain Bligh was furious, "hold your ground!" he roared, "hold your ground!" but the lines continued to break, the men continued to run. The snow was falling faster now, beginning to stick. Penguin watch in amusement as Blight swung at several fleeing men, only to have his feet slide in the new slush and turn him around. When the man righted himself he was swearing so profusely that Penguin was mildly surprised to see the pirate only raise an eyebrow. That turned the remarks to him. "You yellow bellied son of a trout!" The man boomed, "Do you think you'll get away with this? Do you think the government doesn't know who you are now? Do you think you'll be able to hide? We know it all! We know about the sinking of the Golden Coy, the ransacking of Blue Ridge. We know about the kidnapping of the governor Grydoni, and the death of Sir Jacques. We know about the attack on the fifth division of the Harrington base, and the looting of cobalt bay. Do you really think I'll let you get away with it? I'll send your severed head to Beckett in a basket!"

Still moving toward Shachi's position Penguin couldn't help but slow down to watch. Most men would have become angry at the list of accusations Captain Bligh had just leveled at the pirate, others would have bragged, but the Surgeon of Death only smiled. "Yes I have done those things," he answered, "and considering the fact that your men are running for their lives I wonder that you stay."

Captain Bligh bristled at the remark. "Would it surprise you to learn I have enough courage for a thousand men?" he called a note of false bravado in his voice. Penguin could tell the man was already rattled.

"No, not really." The pirate smirked, "Considering your obvious lack of mental capacity, honestly, I would be surprised to learn that you possessed anything so common as the ability to pick your battles wisely. Though considering the fact that you wish to face me, it seems that my initial assessment of you is correct and you are not, as you wish to think yourself, extraordinarily brave, but incredibly lacking in sound judgement."

Bligh gaped at him and Penguin couldn't help but laugh the sound echoing among the battle cries. "The pirate just called you stupid, Captain. I'm inclined to agree." He knew his mistake the moment the words were out of his mouth. Not more than five feet past him Penguin was in easy reach of the larger man who instantly rounded on him one hand grabbing for his throat the other driving through his shoulder pounding him into the ground.

"Make fun of me will you!" the man growled his hand closing on Penguin's airway. Bligh bared his teeth in his face, "I'll make sure that insulting breath was your last!"

The pain in Penguin's shoulder was extraordinary. He was positive it had been injured in the fall, but worse was the way he couldn't draw breath. His eyes were tearing, his chest constricting with the effort, and as everything began to go gray he vaguely registered a young cry of "leave aniki alone!" as a small form leapt on Captain Bligh's back one thin arm going around the man's thick throat, the other hand tangling in the Captain's thinning hair. Mouse, Penguin thought wondering why the kid would risk his new-found freedom this way. There was no way the kid would have any effect on the situation. Penguin could feel himself losing consciousness, could feel his mind slipping away.

There was a flash of blue boiler suit. And then what seemed to be a giant air current sweeping through and the sound of steel on steel. Bligh's body trembled, and his hand was ripped free of Penguin's throat. Penguin drew a deep shuddering breath, and began coughing, wheezing, sucking in every bit of air he could get. Still hacking he pushed himself to his knees, vision swimming, even as Mouse reached his side and attempted to help him up. He saw it then. Shachi was there, standing between them and the captain, seemingly completely relaxed, but feet positioned in a way that let Penguin know he was ready to spring into action any moment. Beyond Bligh was the rear admiral sword bared, but miraculously stopped on the Pirate's blade.

It was then Penguin understood. Shachi must have attacked Bligh just as the rear admiral arrived. Rear Admiral Hawke must have attempted to take them all out in a single blow, only to have the Surgeon of Death interfere. Yet, if the pirate had interfered it meant he was capable of holding the Rear Admiral off for a while, meaning if they could defeat Bligh-

"Mouse," Shachi snapped, "Get Penguin back to the ship."

"No," Penguin objected, "I still have enough strength for this!"

"Strength yes," Shachi countered, "but you don't have the speed. I'll handle Bligh, you get to the ship. Tell the X.O. we need to leave as soon as the rest of us arrive."

"But, Shachi. "

"DO IT! Mouse, make sure he complies." By this time Bligh had picked himself up and readied for another attack. This time it was the bear who intercepted.

-:-:-:-

Law inhaled through clenched teeth, Kikoku held in both hands arms holding firm as the Rear Admiral pressed back with his saber. His feet slid in the slush that now coated the pavement and choosing to give ground rather then to potentially fall Law leapt back slashing out as he did so intending to cut the other man in two. Somehow the man deflected the blow. "What's the matter?" The Rear Admiral laughed at him, "Never fight a Haki user before?" Law hated to be laughed at, but it was the word haki that caught his attention. Oh he knew what it was, had been taught what it was almost since the moment he set foot on one of Doflamingo's ships all that time ago when he had still hated the world, but just because he knew what it was didn't mean he had fought against it before, or that he had any idea how to do so now.

"What I use is armament haki," the man began to explain as if Law was a small child "it allows me to protect my body, extremely useful in fighting logia users, gives one the ability for solid contact. I didn't realize it'd be so useful against you, but then the principal is the same after all." He continue laughing and Law frowned.

"It is fortunate then that I have never relied too much on my devil's fruit powers." He said softly, "I assure you I am a perfectly competent swordsman." He hazarded a glance over his shoulder. He had long since let the random jumbled up mess of bodies part fall to the ground. Those who had been able to reassemble themselves had done so, and then pulled their remaining companions to safety. All that remain was the captain, whom Bepo seemed to have tangled in a full nelson, the gingered haired marine stood ready to help the bear, the other marine with the big mouth was on his feet despite having been nearly strangled to death a moment before. Though, by the way he was holding his right arm Law would guess his shoulder had been badly injured. The gangly slave boy was tugging on the injured man's sleeve with some urgency. It had been all Law could do to intercept the admiral's blade before he had sliced those marines and the boy apart, and now he wondered if he really truly had the skill to go up against this man. At the moment Law seriously doubted it.

"You don't have time to worry about them!" The Rear Admiral shouted an eagerness in his eyes as he rushed Law swinging his saber in an arch from the lower right. Law blocked, his nodachi sending up sparks as one blade slid the length of the other. An overhead slash met its opposite, and a thrust was blocked by a downward stab as Law turned aside pivoting around his opponent to slash at his head. The rear Admiral blocked easily and Law danced back again suddenly beginning to laugh.

"What is it you find funny!" the Rear admiral asked. Unlike the Captain he seemed utterly calm and focused, "do you think you can win simply because you've been able to block a few strikes?"

"It's just," Law began pausing to block an overhead strike, "you seem to have forgotten you're still in my room." They danced apart, Law using the longer length of his nodachi to slash across the older man's torso, it was of course parried, and he was forced to counterstrike another blow that came so close in the blocking that it brought them nose to nose. "And cutting you apart isn't the only thing I can do." He smirked at the sudden widening of the man's eyes. Removing one hand from the hilt of his blade Law crooked a finger and several crates that had been resting on the porch of the town square's general store suddenly rose in the air flying forwards to smash apart against the rear Admiral's shoulder knocking him aside.

-:-:-:-

Shachi groaned inwardly as captain Bligh managed to escape the grip of the bear-mink, but he was ready for it. He may have been considerably smaller than the captain, but he was faster. Much faster. He dodged the fist that was aimed at his face and spun into tski kotegish grabbing the man's wrist, sweeping it down and then back to take his balance, and then forcing his fingers to point down his own spine. It took only seconds and Bligh crashed to the ground, sending up a spray of slush, momentarily stunned by the force of a blow that had taken relatively little effort. It was always easier to use an opponent's weight and size against them. As he spun away he saw that Penguin had stopped at the edge of the square and turned back to watch, Mouse tugging unsuccessfully on his good arm. But at least he was only watching so Shachi let it go.

Captain Bligh rolled over and pushed to his feet rushing forward in the same motion, but the bear was there again. Push right, punch left, kick right, each blow sending Bligh staggering back a couple of steps, but at the next punch the captain ducked under, barreling his shoulder into the bear's stomach. The bear doubled over and Shachi rushed forward only to take a back fist across his jaw that send him flying back several paces sliding across the wet icy pavement. When he picked himself up again he could see the bear struggling with the captain fist in paw, dragging each other around in circles. Shachi waited, calculated, and then rushed in, but Bligh saw him and spun about pulling the bear between Shachi and his intended target. It was all Shachi could do to pull his punch enough that it only glanced off his new fighting companion's fur.

"That isn't fighting fair." The bear growled, but Bligh only laughed, seconds later he had twisted loose, but in such a way that gave him a hold on the ursine's front paw twisting and somehow throwing the animal in such a way that Shachi knew he was going to have to doge quickly or become the landing pad for that massive amount of bulk.

As he rolled he saw Penguin move. In spinning around to throw the bear Bligh had unintentionally put his back to Penguin and the man had taken advantage of it. Shachi tried to cry out a warning, let Penguin know to stay back, but it was already too late. Grabbing the front of his jumpsuit with his injured hand to keep the arm still, Penguin had rushed forward launching himself into the air with a well-timed leap, good arm outstretched for a finishing blow. He came down almost on top of Captain Bligh, the outer edge of his left palm striking the man's neck in just the right place below the base of the skull hard enough to knock the man out. All Shachi could do at that moment was feel a thrill of gratitude that Penguin had always been left handed.

"Penguin aniki!" Mouse called from where he was waiting at the edge of the square in a shrill shout that sounded rather like a cheer of celebration. But things weren't over yet. Shachi looked across the way where he could see the pirate fighting the Rear Admiral, leaping apart and then rushing forward again blade against blade, the Surgeon of Death using his ability to send things flying at the marine, a bit of brick here, a stray crate there. The Rear Admiral seemed able to shake off blow after blow. For a moment it seemed to Shachi that the Surgeon of Death's strikes were occasionally going wild, missing by a wide margin, but after a moment or two he realized that it was always when the man was facing the buildings that had been including in his circle. He was making more rubble he could use as projectiles.

"Hey," he called out, "Hey, you need any help?" the call echoed in the now empty square for a moment and then there was a moment of silence as blades clashed, saber against nodachi, but they broke apart the pirate answering as he leapt back.

"No, get out of here, get to that submarine you mentioned. I'll be close behind." Shachi didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed Penguin under his good arm and began to run for the docks, motioning for Mouse to do the same. The minkman close on their heels.

-:-:-:-

The only way Law was going to win this was to overwhelm the other man. He'd known that from almost the first moment their blades had crossed. The second thing he knew was that it was never going to happen if he relied on his swordsmanship alone. He was a competent swordsman, he hadn't been lying, but the rear admiral was far more than competent. The rear admiral was brilliant. It was all he could do to block and doge. Occasionally he got the lucky strike in. Add in the necessary concentration needed to throw objects across his room, and Law's strength was draining rapidly. That was why he had begun setting up the end from the beginning.

He'd known since he had walked into the square that there was the possibility he might need to throw objects at his opponents, so he had set up the room to include at least a portion of the town square's buildings. He'd known since the Rear Admiral had shaken off the impact of the crate that he was going to need to hit the man with something heavier and more durable. So he'd begun slicing apart those buildings and using the stone, making the cuts needed to make those blocks with seemingly wild strikes. He sincerely hoped the other man hadn't caught on, or if he had that he was underestimating Law enough that it would still work. He was almost in position now, the only reason he hadn't pressed for it being that the other men fought the captain nearby, he'd had to temper his strikes so as not to hit them. But now they were gone, safely out of the square, and Law pressed home his advantage.

Parry, block, strike, uppercut meets sweep from the side, overhand meets uppercut, dance back, press forward, thrust, turn, block from the side. They danced around each other testing each other's footing, the Rear Admiral's haki keeping Law from slicing him apart with every blow, but finally they were there.

With a satisfied grin Law suddenly leapt back from a blow he should have blocked, with one hand he motioned forwards, dropping to his stomach as a section of wall sailed over his head. Icy water from the slush that now completely coated the pavement in white soaked through his clothes in a matter of seconds, but Law stayed put until the wall cleared him. It wasn't just any section of wall though. Cut from the front wall of Krocylea's most trusted bank it was made of the hardest granite the owner had been able to find and two feet thick. The wall smashed into the rear admiral with such force that both were propelled out of Law's circle and into the roof supports of the local tavern's front porch. Both wall and roof crumbled leaving Law's opponent buried in rubble.

Law didn't think twice. Turning on his heels, ignoring the possibility that the Rear Admiral might still remain conscious. Law let the room drop, grabbed his rucksack from the ground where it had been thrown free during the fight, and ran for the docks with all the strength he had left. He knew, that had he continued the fight, had he tried to end it on his own strength, he would have lost, miserably.

-:-:-:-

Penguin knew he had to fight through the pain, just a little bit longer. They waited on the lower deck of the submarine, the cylindrical outer wall of the gym behind them, the door to the mess waiting open for a quick entry in the vessel. Shachi had sent Mouse below upon arrival. He had tried to send Penguin below as well, but Penguin had refused. His neck felt bruised and swollen, he was still breathing deeply, relishing each bit of air for all it was worth, his shoulder ached with a pain that seemed to throb with each movement, but Penguin wanted to be on deck, he wanted to see this through to the end. The deck itself was a bit of a mess, abandoned weapons here, a crate full of hothouse apples that had not made it to the kitchen there, even a bit of scrap metal that was being used to repair a bit of railing damaged by a sea king during their journey through the calm belt.

In his left hand he held a rifle. No doubt discarded by one of the few marines the X.O.'s men had needed to knock out, tie up, and place on the dock when commandeering the ship. Penguin doubted the gun would be much use, but better he use it than Shachi. Penguin had seen Shachi shoot. If that man picked up a gun they were practically doomed. "See anything yet?" he asked his voice hoarse. Beside him Shachi lowered the binoculars he'd been looking through.

"Nothing, unless you want to count the uproar going on by the warship. It's a miracle they haven't figured out we've taken the sub, but I'd rather be out at sea than sit here much longer."

On the other side of Shachi the Bepo's ears twitched, "there," the minkman pointed excitedly, "I can see him there!" sure enough at the far end of the dock running towards them was the Surgeon of Death. Feet pounding on the planks, arms pumping, he was obviously pushing himself for all he was worth and fairly soon Penguin saw why. Hot on his heels was the Rear Admiral, not nearly as fast as the other man, but he didn't have to be. With a cry and a motion Penguin saw him motion to the men on the warship and suddenly the docks seemed to be full of marines. But the pirate plowed through those few who managed to get in front and deftly left the rest behind. It wasn't long after that the night was filled with the sounds of gunfire. Fortunately those firing were either very poor shots or not nearly close enough to hit their target. Perhaps a combination of both. "Here!" Bepo suddenly called waving both arms, we're here!"

Penguin vaguely noticed Shachi running for the hatch reaching inside to pull out one of the com units. "Pull away from the docks." He ordered whoever answered the other end, "Don't submerge yet, but pull away from the docks." Penguin lowered himself to the deck as he felt the sub begin to move beneath his feet. Raising the rifle he braced against the deck's rail, found his sight down the barrel, used his good hand to aim, and his bad one to pull the trigger intending to lay down cover fire for the man who couldn't be much more than fifty yards away. One shot, two, he wasn't aiming to harm anybody only to frighten, and it seemed to be working. Shots fired from what they thought was an allied ship, well it only seemed to throw even more confusion into the mix.

"I thought you said you couldn't shoot?" Shachi stated in surprised as the man re-joined him at the rail.

"I said I didn't like guns," Penguin answered matter-of-factly, "I never said I couldn't shoot." But he kept his focus on the docks firing when necessary. The pirate was twenty yards from them then ten, but for every stride he made the sub pulled further away.

"Here," Bepo called out again using every bit of his nine foot height to lean out from the railing reaching for his friend, "Grab my paw!" below, Penguin saw the Rear Admiral stop and reach for a knife. Penguin took aim. Beside him Shachi suddenly cursed and rushed to the side grabbing up the piece of scrap metal from the deck. From the edge of the dock the Pirate leapt, his own arm outstretched reaching for the bear's. Penguin saw the Rear Admiral's arm whip back and forwards even as he pulled the trigger. The knife flew through the air aimed squarely for the Surgeon of Death's back. For a moment Penguin was sure it would strike true, but Shachi had already moved flinging the small bit of scrap he'd picked up between the man and the blade.

For once his aim was good. The knife struck the plate and superior metal winning out against haki imbued blade both shattered upon impact. Shrapnel flew in all directions but the bear had managed to grab the Surgeon of Death's outstretched hand and throw them both to the deck as the pieces flew over their heads. Beside him Penguin noticed Shachi jerk to the side one hand going to a cheek that suddenly sprouted the thin cut but he seemed otherwise unharmed.

At the same time Penguin's last round flew home, straight into the rear admiral's right shoulder the impact knocking him back. The four of them, three men and a bear-mink, looked at each other for a moment before rushing for the door, piling inside as quickly as possible, Shachi sliding the bolt into place and hitting the button that signaled to the control room that the hatch was sealed. Seconds later they felt the deck lurch under their feet with a sudden increase in speed. The submarine moved further away from the dock and began to dive the moment there was enough clearance to do so. They'd have to get beneath the waves and out of sight as quickly as possible, but Penguin was positive that they could manage it before the warship could to get underway.

-:-:-:-

Jean Bart looked up at the night sky; there was something about it that brought back to him who he was. Who he had been. Once a great pirate captain now a slave. At least his men were safe. At least he hoped they were. He had seen to it that they had gotten away at the cost of his own freedom, but there was nothing to tell him what had happened afterward. He sat against the white stone of a magnificent house, clothed only in dingy beige coveralls that were nowhere near the original white color they had once been. His master had left him there. He was to wait for the man's return and then carry him home. The sedative in his system left him with no strength to disobey. He lifted a hand and felt the cool mettle of the collar around his neck. Strange how something so simple could induce so much fear.

Though he knew he was alone for the moment he also knew there was no hope of escape. Fisher Tiger was dead, had died long before Jean Bart had been captured. Jean Bart was well out of the reach of The Dragon and his revolutionaries; even they wouldn't dare infiltrate the home of the world nobles, or would they? Well they hadn't yet so there would be no help from that quarter. There was no one else who Jean Bart could think of that might have a chance, or the will. He had no hope of freeing himself either. Not unless circumstances changed drastically.

The stars above twinkled at him, shining so brightly Jean Bart could almost imagine them laughing. Did they know something he didn't? Was there a man out there somewhere with the power to do as Fisher Tiger had? The power to remove his chains? And clear a path home? If he was honest with himself, he had to admit he had almost lost hope. High above a single star fell, shooting across the heavens in a streak of light. For the first time since he was a very small boy Jean Bart felt desperate enough to make a wish.


	8. Destination Unknown

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you everyone who reviewed!

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

 **Destination Unknown**

Bepo had never been in such a strange place before. He had tumbled through the door with the two marine men and Law into what appeared to be a dining area with a kitchen off to one side. The kitchen seemed normal, though it was separated from the rest by a wall containing a door and a large open window with what seemed to be a metal curtain that could be rolled down. There was a counter beneath that window with stools that were attached to the wall with some sort of strange hinge. The dining area had long white picnic tables set up around the room but those seemed to be bolted to the floor, and the floor itself seemed to be made of smooth metal. He stamped his paw on it several times and sure enough it gave off the metallic ring against his claws that he was expecting.

Turning around to face the door he was met with another surprise. Out the round window, he saw not sky, but water, an endless expanse of water like he saw when he stuck his head beneath the waves while swimming. Above the door was an eerie red light. "What is this place?" he muttered, "why are we underwater, why is everything bolted down, why is the floor metal instead of deck like outside!" The minkman swiveled his head around to look at the two men who had helped them, both wearing the strange blue one piece suits baring the marine logo. There scent and faces joggled his memory. Were these the boys from so long ago?

It was the man with ginger hair and sunglasses who answered. His friend seemed to be too busy rubbing his neck and grimacing to pay attention. "This is a marine submarine." He stated, "we are underwater because it's safer to be there than at the surface at the moment, I can explain all the ups and down of the ballast system later if you like," he paused and smiled, "no pun intended. The tables are bolted to the floor to keep them from sliding during a storm, and the floor is metal because it's easier to keep clean, both here and in the medical bay for example. Other areas of the sub do have decking." He paused again and looked around. "No one's in here which means they've either all crowded into the control room, or the X.O., Christian, has already ordered everyone to their bunks unless they've got a job to do. If you follow me I'll take you to see him, and we can figure out a course." And with that the man led the way out of the room Law following close behind, offering a comforting pat to Bepo's shoulder as he passed.

Bepo trailed after them gingerly down the two flights of stairs listening to the squishing sound all three men's soaking wet boots made on the floor. He wasn't sure he liked this place at all. The corridors were narrow, the metal walls reflected the lights in a very abnormal way and gave an iron tinge to the air, and he was beginning to get hot. Behind him followed the other man, gripping his clothing oddly with one arm and rubbing his neck with the other. He smelled wounded, but he had jumped into the battle and fought so well incapacitating that captain who had wanted to kill so many people. Was it a marine thing to continue fighting when they didn't have too? Bepo opened his mouth to ask, and then remembered it might be considered rude and stopped. He could ask Law later. He'd already had an incedent from bruising these men's feeling once, long ago. They didn't need another now.

Speaking of Law the man seemed to have a slew of questions, all about the marines and what their mission had been, where they had been intending to go, and what sort of forces were currently stationed in North Blue and where. The man with the sunglasses answered them all, pausing only to open another door and lead the way inside. "We're here," he said stepping in and making room for the others including Bepo, "and apparently so is everybody else."

-:-:-:-

Law had to admit that so far, by everything he had seen, he was impressed. This ship was truly at the height of technology. He wasn't surprised to learn it had been designed by Vegapunk. That man had a mastery of all things scientific, and Law was seeing the results with his own eyes. Now, as he entered the control room, gazed out the large window that took up the majority of the front wall, as he registered the splendor of the underwater world he could now see, Law had a whole new appreciation for the genius who had allowed himself to become a government dog.

He didn't waste too much time gazing out the window though. The Krocylean refugees were crowded along one wall of the control room, mothers trying to quiet crying children as their husbands argued with a tall man dressed in the standard marine uniform instead of the blue boiler suit the other two wore. At the very back of the group a familiar teenage boy leaned against the wall, his black fur hat pulled down low over his eyes. The slave boy Law had seen earlier stood by the helm a broad smile upon his face as he worked the controls.

"Master Chief," the marine snapped as they entered the room, "can you please talk some sense into these people!"

"We've just committed mutiny, Christian," the ginger haired man snapped back, "We are marines no longer. It's just Shachi."

Christian, Law mused. That was the name the man, Shachi, had earlier associated with his former X.O.

"Well then, Perhaps either you or _Penguin_ ," here he shot a pointed look at the other marine who was currently standing behind Bepo, "can explain to these people why we can not simply go back to the island. Why it's not safe."

"That would be ill advised." Law muttered, "with everything that's just happened I expect those marines will stay on Krocylea for some time while they regroup, and if they have not already put two and two together and realized you are aboard this sub they with scour the island for you, your families, and anyone they believe may be helping you. It will be far safer to find another island and start a new life, or if you can not, to lay low there for at least six months. Give the government time to begin a search elsewhere." He met the eyes of each of each of the adults in turn and used his most soothing tone of voice, the one he saved for patients who were at their worst. Several nodded in understanding.

"Will," one of the women spoke softly, "will they issue wanted posters for us now?"

This question gave him pause, but after a moment or two of pouring over events in his head, of thinking about who may have been spotted by whom, he had to admit he doubted it. "I can make no promises, but it seems highly unlikely. I doubt they can even prove the marines on this ship did commit mutiny with the possible exceptions of Penguin and Shachi." the two men nodded and he continued, "the former slaves of course will need to keep a low profile for the rest of their lives, and as I already have a bounty on my head I seriously doubt I will be in any more danger then I was previously. No, the only new bounties I would expect to see would be these two." And he nodded at Penguin and Shachi, both of who looked rather resigned to their fates.

"Why only those two?" Christian, the former XO grumbled looking rather miffed.

"Because those two together overpowered a captain, and then Penguin took a shot at a rear admiral, that's why." The man frowned at him and Law walked forward, spun around a chair that looked as though it must be meant for the captain when he supervised the control room, and sat down. He barely kept himself from wincing as his soaked clothing rubbed against his skin reminding him that he should take the first opportunity to change. In a split second decision he removed the muddy black hoody, revealing a white t-shirt beneath, and dropped it on top of his rucksack, which had been set next to the chair. Yes, that was better. Christian frowned at him, but out of the corner of his eye Law thought he saw Shachi smile. "Now," Law began a plan forming in his head, "if you would be so kind as to find me some local sea charts I believe I can point you in the direction of an island on which everyone present should be able to rest safely."

Christian opened his mouth to reply, paused, and then suddenly his face turned red. "Now you listen to me, pirate, I'm in charge of this operation and . . ."

But Law waved a hand as he cut him off. "If you think I'm going to take orders from a man who not only planned and committed mutiny, but sprung it last minute on his nakama and then left them to fight their superior officers on their own, you are sadly mistaken." Especially not when the same two men had been so quick to reject the other man's authority, but Law kept that thought to himself. He had no wish to start a fight in such cramped quarters.

"The ship needed to be commandeered. Without an escape route . . ."

"This ship, as I understand it, was run by a skeleton crew, most of whom were on your side. It couldn't have taken more than what, five, ten minutes to secure? You could have sent backup. Now, those charts."

Christian opened his mouth and the closed it, obviously fighting internally over the best response, eventually deciding to say nothing and attempt to stare Law down. Law also remained silent. Only held the man's gaze. Just sat there and looked. Eventually the other man looked away, walked across the room where he took the helm from the boy and sent the lad out of the room. Law smiled. Part of him was surprised at how easy it had been to assume command. Not that he really wanted to. Taking command meant he was going to have to watch these men, make sure they didn't do anything stupid, and if they were truly incompetent, micromanage everything. He hated micromanaging. Yet, another part of him, knew it was necessary. These were marines, they were trained in hunting criminals, not avoiding other marines, and if he let them do as they wanted they'd be caught in a matter of days. Law couldn't allow that to happen. So he took command.

He sat there quietly as everybody moved about his or her business. Penguin settled into a chair in one corner resting his head on a console, Bepo settled into another chair behind Law's his furry white bulk spilling over the sides, Shachi began herding the refugees out of the control room muttering something about quarters being tighter than what they probably were used to. The man should be able to find a bed for everyone. That had been one of Law's questions on the way down to the control room, and he knew everything should work out fine. Several of the refugees stayed behind, two men, one woman, and the boy with the hat. No doubt they wanted to know where they'd be going. Christian stayed at the helm, glowering out the window and refusing to look around.

Not long after the others had left, the former slave boy returned with his arms loaded down with charts. In a matter of seconds Law had picked out the one he wanted and spread it out on the console before him as the remaining refugees gathered around. "Make your course here," he ordered finding the appropriate points of converging latitude and longitude marking an apparently empty stretch of sea where he sketched in a small Island, writing the name Saim out beside it.

"But that's no man's land," the boy snapped and as he spoke Law suddenly placed him as the teen from the tavern where he had challenged Law's knowledge of Beckett. "No ship that sails it has ever survived. They sail in and disappear, no one ever hears of them again!"

"Correction, no ship that sails in uninvited survives." Law chuckled at the lad's puzzled look.

"But there's nothing there?"

Law smiled, "there is nothing there to find unless you know it already exists, I'd say this particular island vanished from the maps, perhaps a little over twenty years ago, and if you read your history that's probably about the same time the ships in the area started disappearing, fools always think newer is better when it come to maps."

"But why are we going there?" he challenged. And Law suppressed the urge to ask the boy if he was always this argumentative or just had an attitude problem.

"Because it is one of the only places on this sea were I can guarantee even a remote chance of the people on this submarine having a future. I set out to free them and free them I will. You'll find I am not the sort of man who does anything halfway." The kid frowned, but shut up. In contrast the former slave boy beamed at him, carefully rolled up the chart, and took it to the helm where he handed the charts to Christian who began making the required modifications to the sub's heading. A moment later Bepo's head appeared over the helman's shoulder, far too close for comfort, and tilted slightly to the side as if confused. "What is it Bepo?" Law called over to him wondering what was going on.

"If – If we're headed there shouldn't the ship be headed a bit more to the west?" Bepo asked pointing a paw slightly to the left of where the ship was currently headed. Christian looked like he wanted to argue, but at Law's glare checked the instruments only for his shoulders to slump in defeat. "I'm a bear minkman." Bepo stated in reply to the slave boy's asking how he had known. "I just know."

The rest of the occupants of the compartment slowly dispersed, no doubt looking for their families, and sometime later a muffled snore from Bepo, who had moved to another corner, let him know the minkman was asleep. Standing he stretched and taking a look around the control room his gaze eventually fell on the motionless form of Penguin who was still curled up in the chair, his head buried in his arms which were folded over the console. The Man's shoulders were tensed in such a way that Law could tell on sight that the man must be in a great deal of pain. The fact that Penguin had up until this pointed said absolutely nothing in regards to his own discomfort had Law impressed. The fact that Law's own doctor's instincts were kicking in regarding the possible severity of the situation meant he was going to see to it that Penguin was taken care of. The quietness disturbed him. If he remembered right Penguin had a big mouth.

"Are you all right?" he asking walking over to stand behind the other man.

"Fine," came the grunted answer, though Penguin remained perfectly still.

"You're seriously injured." Law pointed out bluntly noting not only the way the man seemed to be holding his shoulder, but occasionally massaging his neck.

"It's nothing," Penguin insisted blandly

"It's not nothing," Law growled. "Is there anything resembling so much as a med kit aboard this boat?"

"The medical bay's above us," Penguin muttered pointed at the ceiling, still not looking at Law, "this ship's previous owner was a bit of a hypochondriac."

"Come on then I'll have a look." Law moved to support the uninjured side and Penguin finally turned and met his eyes, hesitating. It was the first time Law had gotten a look at him since they were boys. He knew Penguin was only about two years older than himself. The man stubbornly met Law's gaze directly, but his face was pale, and he seemed to be a bit short of breath. It was the troubled breathing that worried him. Law pulled the man to his feet answering the unspoken doubt probably going through the other man's mind. "I may be many things, and I may become many things, but I am first and foremost a doctor. Let me treat your wounds. Besides, I haven't forgotten Swallow Island."

Penguin sighed, nodded, and looking miserable led the way out of the control room up the stairs and turned immediately towards the bow of the submarine where he faced a set of closed double doors made out of the same metal as the hatch they had originally entered the ship through. Law stepped forward to open one and stepped inside holding the door open for the other man as he looked around. If he could have had possession of all the money he needed to build whatever medical facility he desired for a sailing vessel, well his imagination couldn't even begin to scratch to surface of what was before him, and his imagination was very good. One wall was lined with scanners, monitors, and he even thought he saw an x-ray machine in one corner. There also seemed to be a large walk in refrigerator. Several beds that could double as crash carts lined the opposite wall. A third contained a work counter, and every other available space housed shelves and cupboards he could only assume were full of medicine, raw materials, and any supplies he might need to mix, store, or administer them.

Directing Penguin to sit on one of the beds and strip to the waist so he could get a look at the injured shoulder, Law began rummaging through drawers. It didn't take him long to find a box of gloves and a small pin light, and grabbing a tongue depressor from a canister on the counter he flipped on the overhead lights and began with what could be the more serious of the man's injuries.

There was no bruising, in sixty percent of cases there wasn't, but Law's trained eye could pick up areas of irritated skin and some minor swelling on Penguin's neck. He ordered the man to open his mouth and sit still, which he did, but as Law examined his throat and neck he found nothing lat led him to believe the man's airway had been permanently damaged in any way. He thumbed Penguin's eyes open to look for redness, checked for signs of confusion or disorientation that could occur "Any trouble breathing?" He asked when he was satisfied with his findings, "any numbness or difficulty swallowing? Nausea?"

"In order?" Penguin cracked smile, "there was at the beginning, but I'm fine now. No numbness, my throat's a little sore, and no. My head is pounding though, is that . . ."

"To be expected after being knocked around like you were," Law nodded, "Let's get a look at that shoulder."

"I think I dislocated it." Penguin grunted as Law shifted his focus. But the doctor only shook his head.

"Separated, and minor at that. There's a significant difference between the two, but if we're in each other's company again for any length of time I'd be willing to teach you." Law left for a moment to enter the walk-in-refrigerator which he was pleased to see contained a freezer at the back, and shelf upon shelf of more supplies. Returning with an icepack he pressed it against the man's injured shoulder. "I'm going to give you an anti inflammatory and some pain killers for the shoulder and the headache. They should help your throat as well. Keep that icepack on for fifteen minutes, give it a rest, and then ice it again for fifteen minutes every four hours until the swelling goes down, or I tell you otherwise. I want to keep an eye on your breathing and neck pain for a while, symptoms of strangulation can sometime appear days afterwards. If you feel worse or have any more trouble breathing . . ."

"I'll come find you." He paused and then continued, "any objection if I just stay right here for the night?"

"That sounds just fine to me." Law answered with a smile as he stripped off the medical gloves and tossed them in the trash. He had turned away and reached for the switch to turn off the overhead light so the other man could get some sleep when Penguin spoke again, sounding sad and thoughtful.

"There's something wrong with this world, a sickness of the soul I'd say. What else could make men so evil they'd harm another just for the sake of satisfying their own ego. I used to think that only criminals were that way. It's why I became a marine to give the rest justice, but after what just happened . . . Bligh and the Noble's Ambassador. I think my definition of justice needs to change. I don't know that I could claim to have encountered true evil until now. Too bad that's not something you can fix with your medicine huh?"

Law grunted in reply and clicked off the lights, but the other man's words had struck a chord. His brain was spinning rapidly thinking of all the things he hated about this world the route he wished his life could have taken, how he had once just wanted to kill everybody, and one by one the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. His course was clear as mud now; he wished he knew what path to take. Whatever he did he only hoped he could prove Penguin wrong, and that illness wasn't the only thing a doctor had the ability to heal. But to manage that more than just his perspective was going to have to change.

-:-:-:-

Shachi sighed as he worked his way through the sub, checking on the men and settling in the new passengers. He'd ordered a rotating shift just to keep them moving through the night, hoping to reach the island of Saim, sometime the next day. He knew that was being optimistic. He was by no means a navigator, but he had seen the chart, and he knew the submarine's capabilities. The afternoon of the day after was far more likely.

The refugees were friendly enough once they got settled in and felt safe enough to talk. Shachi had learned a great deal about the life Surgeon of Death whom they called Trafalgar Law, or even just Dr. Trafalgar on their little island. That information included the fact that not a single one of them had even remotely suspected the man was a pirate until he appeared in the square. That little fact showed exactly how intelligent the man could be. A dangerous combination, his brains and strength. Yet, somehow, he found himself trusting the man, more than he did the X.O. anyway. Shachi didn't know what would happen next, but he had a feeling it was going to entail either joining Christian's crew or striking out on his own. Maybe Penguin would stay with him. Maybe Law needed a few new crew-mates. They had jokes about it once upon a time, sailing together. Shachi didn't particularly relish the idea of working for Beckett, but at the moment piracy was looking to be the best option he had.

It was the voice of a little girl that pulled him out of his musings. "Mommy, I'm hungry." She whispered pulling on her mother's sleeves. The child of the main instigator of the protest that had lead to these people being on the ship, the kid couldn't have been cuter with her little lip in a pout. Though not an emotional man by nature Shachi couldn't help but feel a little tug at his heartstrings. "If you can wait forty-five minute or so, I'll see if I can't rustle up a pot of soup or something." He offered, receiving an approving nod from the mother. He smiled, turned on his heels, and headed for the galley.

The kitchen itself was very serviceable. It contained three ovens, a large stove, industrial appliances, plenty of cupboard space, a stainlesssteel double sink, a service window with roll-down metal blinds, and a bar beneath the window where food could be served cafeteria style or people could sit to chat with the cook. To the left of the bar was the door into the kitchen and just inside to the left of that were the doors to a large pantry and a walk in refrigerator. Shachi expected to see all that. What he was not expecting was to find the kitchen already occupied.

It appeared Trafalgar Law had evidently had much the same idea as Shachi. Unfortunately, it also appeared as if the man had no idea how to cook. He had apparently pulled out every vegetable he could find, every starch he could find, every spice that might even possibly taste good, and several things that had no business being cooked at all. And then there was the fact that the pot the man had pulled out to hold it all was way too small. Fortunately, Shachi had arrived before the man had a chance to cut into anything.

"You find everything all right?" Shachi asked as he leaned against the door-frame, trying not to act too smug.

The other man straightened and looked around at the counters piled with food. "Yeah I think so." He smiled, "I was going to make stew or something for everybody, but without knowing how this kitchen was arranged . . ." he shrugged.

"You cook?" Shachi asked not able to stop the eyebrow that rose above the rim of his sunglasses. "You couldn't nine years ago when we first met."

"No, not really." Law replied reaching up to rub the back of his neck, "but then, how hard can it be."

"Out!" Shachi stepped forward and pointed to the door, "let me take care of it." The moment the other man was out of the kitchen Shachi pulled the correct size pot out of a cupboard before noticing that a jar of Umeboshi had somehow ended up in the trash. He rescued it, rinsed off the container, and then put it back where it belonged receiving a very disapproving look from the Pirate. Shachi then proceeded to put all the unnecessary food away. Seriously, who put barley, three different types of rice, lentils, beans, and potatoes all into the same soup?

"So tell me, Trafalgar Law," he asked as he began chopping up the beef to be sauteed with onions in the bottom on the pan, "what would you have done if the submarine hadn't been waiting for you?"

"Just Law is fine," he muttered in response pulling out a stool on the other side of the service window and settling in at the bar, "and my original plan was to send the folks back through town and hole up in the woods for a while. There're some excellent cave systems, and I've got a direct line to my captain." Here he pointed at a den den mushi Shachi hadn't noticed, which was sitting on the end of the bar counter-top munching away happily on a piece of lettuce. Beckett's Jolly Roger was painted on its shell. "A few days would have seen a ship arrive for us." He shrugged, "this was better. Thank you."

Shachi shrugged off the thanks, gave the beef and onions another quick stir and then turned back to the counter where he picked up a bright red fruit he'd missed when putting the unnecessary supplies away. "Pomegranate?" he asked rather skeptically, "what were you planning to do with that?"

"They're high in antioxidants, rich in dietary fibers, and a good source of vitamins C and B," Law muttered, and Shachi shook his head.

"Just because it has a high nutritional value doesn't mean it's going to taste good! Pomegranate in a stew? Why don't you peel the vegetables and I'll take care of the actual cooking . . ." Shachi muttered pushing a cutting board, knife, and pile of potatoes towards the man, "let's see . . . how many people do we have to feed?" While Shachi made the appropriate calculations Law reached across and swiped the fruit, breaking it open to get at the goodness within before picking up and peeling a potato. Shachi absentmindedly pushed an empty bowl across the counter for the man to spit the seeds into, before checking the beef and onions. Deciding it was done enough to actually begin the soup he started pouring in a large amount of vegetable broth, turning the heat on the burner higher to bring the whole thing to a boil before he started on the other vegetables.

A set of hurried footsteps rushing into the dining area caught Shachi's attention and he looked around to find Mouse setting a tray containing the baby den den mushi from the radio room on the counter next to the one that belonged to Law. "I forgot to feed them." The boy explained rather shyly, "May I have some lettuce, Uncle Shachi?"

"Shure, kid, it's in the fridge." Shachi jabbed his figure over his shoulder, only to pause and turn around as the lad made a beeline for the required material. "Whoa, wait a minute! How come I'm Uncle Shachi and Penguin gets to be aniki? I'm younger than he is . . ."

Mouse returned looking rather abashed, "I . . . I never had an uncle before and . . . and you kind of act like I thought one would so . . ."

"It's fine." Shachi said hurriedly once he understood, and then noticing the kid was still wearing the dingy brown jumpsuit usually assigned to slaves said, "you know, I've got a spare uniform, it'll be a bit big, but if you want wear something else?"

"Nu-uh," Mouse shook his head vigorously as he handed Law a head of lettuce and then clambered up onto a second stool. "I don't ever want to wear a marine uniform, not after . . ." the kid shuddered.

Law meanwhile seemed to be examining the Baby Den Den. There were three on the tray. One yellow, one red, and one green. "Is this really all there is aboard this ship?" he asked tearing up lettuce and feeding it to the snails, surprise evident in his voice. "This being a marine sub I would have thought there'd be more."

"There were," Shachi answered, "But several of the other officers took one to the square before everything started. We also had a full Den Den, but Captain Bligh made a show of carrying it around in his jacket pocket, so unless it turns up in a corner, that's gone too. These three are all that remain."

"Good, then we can't be traced." He finished divvying up the lettuce, pushed a pile of diced potatoes across the counter to Shachi, and returned to his pomegranate, spitting the seeds into the bowl.

Mouse made a small noise in the back of his throat and Shachi looked at him. The kid was staring longingly at the fruit Law was eating. Evidently Law had noticed as well because he casually shoved the fruit closer to the boy. "But I'm not allowed!" Mouse whispered.

"Kid, you're free now." Shachi started with a smile turning back to finish putting vegetables in the soup and giving it a stir. "You are allowed to have a pomegranate."

"Go ahead." Law muttered.

Looking between the two of them Mouse slowly reached forward and grabbed several kernels. The pleasure on his face upon tasting it was enough to prompt Law to break the remaining fruit in half and hand the kid a large chunk. Shachi smiled and moved to put the potatoes into the soup only to find that the majority of them were covered in red fingerprints. It looked like there was going to be a hint of pomegranate in the stew after all. Oh well, Shachi shrugged and tipped the rest of them into the giant pot.

"You were very brave, by the way." Law told the boy as he relished his share of the pomegranate. "What possessed you to jump into the fray like that?"

The kid frowned, looked at the floor, but answered, "I, I could hear Uncle Shachi and Penguin aniki's voices in trouble . . ."

"You mean on a Den Den Mushi?" Law asked.

Shachi shook his head, "neither of us had one . . ."

"No in my head." Mouse continued, "I, I don't know how, My, my family was taken as slaves when I was really little, things got really bad one day and . . . and ever since if people are close enough, I . . . I can hear their voices. I . . . I heard that Uncle Shachi and Penguin aniki were in trouble and I had to do something, and their voices got more urgent the closer I got, and then Penguin aniki's voice started to disappear so, so I jumped on the Captain." Mouse was looking at the floor now, Shachi thought there might be tears in his eyes, but before he could say anything Law spoke.

"Oi," the man muttered softly, "what you have just described sounds an awful lot like observation haki, if it is, then you have been granted a gift."

Mouse smiled slightly at the older man and asked, "Is the soup ready yet?"

-:-:-:-

Penguin woke slowly, though he knew there was no way he could have been asleep for more than an hour or two. Still a couple hours sleep seemed to have done wonders, that or the painkillers the Doctor had given him. He still hurt, but it was manageable now, and his head was no longer pounding.

Penguin yawned and climbed off the bed deciding that since he was awake he might as well grab whatever food he could find and head for his own bunk. After pulling the used sheets from the bed and stuffing them in the hamper he made his way for the stairs and upwards to the kitchen.

What he found upon entering was rather surprising. Everybody was there. The former slaves had taken up several tables talking quietly among themselves and eyeing everyone with a certain wariness, the refugee families sat around others talking and laughing in a rather relieved fashion. Shachi was in the kitchen doling out bowls of soup to anyone who wanted seconds, the pirate and Mouse were sitting at the bar, the man telling a story of some sort and the boy looking as though he was finally opening up a bit. The mink-bear also occupied a stool and seemed to be joining in the fun. After a look around Penguin decided to join those at the bar, pulling out a fourth stool and digging into the bowl Shachi pushed towards him.

"Penguin, you remember Law right? And Bepo?"

"Humans don't change much, just get taller," Bepo commented

"From that time on Swallow Island? About nine years ago?" Penguin asked.

As Penguin took his first bite Law confirmed his memories and to change the subject asked after the name of the submarine. "This ship?" Shachi answered, "It's called the Acanthuridae." he suddenly burst out laughing, "am I the only one who finds it ironic that a ship named after the surgeon fish was just taken by the Surgeon of Death?"

Law chuckled, "it is a rather pathetic name for a marine submarine of this caliber."

"Can't you change the name?" Bepo asked innocently. The three men shared a look and answered almost as one, "its bad luck to change the name of a ship!"

The bear's head immediately drooped. "I'm sorry." Penguin could only stare.

Law smiled, "he's got soft feelings if that explains anything." Penguin smiled and returned to his soup as the mink apologized yet again.

The submarine progressed on course as easily as could be expected of an underwater vessel packed full of a group of strangers consisting of former slaves, refugees, former marines, and a pirate. They were courteous to each other, sometimes even friendly, but there was already a history of bad blood between the marines and the former slaves that would not easily be mended (aside from Mouse who seemed to have attached himself to Shachi and Penguin), and after what had happened on their island the refugees seemed to be a bit skeptical of everyone. In fact only Law seemed to be able to move freely between the groups, Penguin mused. The pirate was not a personable man, he seemed to be blunt almost to the point of cruelty at times, but there was a honest quality about him in spite of his rough manners. He didn't sugarcoat anything, gave straight forward opinions, in spite of having taken command he never tried to put himself forward as a leader, and the rare orders he did give were so full of sense that no one could argue with him. Though obviously not being what Penguin would call a people person the man had very quickly earned the respect of every person aboard ship. It was with a great sense of relief that Penguin went to bed that night.

-:-:-:-

Shachi pulled the late shift keeping watch on the engine room, generators, and various other machinery. He'd left Penguin to sleep. Everyone could see the other man wasn't doing well. Law insisted that he would recover in time, but Penguin looked pale and he'd taken the second dose of painkillers Law had offered him without question. Shachi knew from experience that Penguin very rarely took any form of medication if he could help it, and he always let his displeasure be known when it was necessary. For him to do so without a word of sarcasm meant it must be bad. So Shachi let him sleep and worked the shift alone.

He was feeling worn out and ready to sleep himself when it was finally his turn to turn in, but he'd barely made it to his bunk when a soft whimpering brought him to a halt. There in the bunk above his own was Mouse. The poor kid seemed to be twisted in his sheets and muttering wildly to himself in his sleep. He whimpered again and Shachi gingerly stretched out a hand to shake his shoulder.

Mouse jerked awake, flailing out and narrowly missing striking Shachi in the jaw, but that didn't matter. There was just enough light for Shachi to make out the fear in the boy's face. "Hey," he murmured softly, "you're dreaming."

"I . . .They were coming for me." Mouse whispered, "they figured out where I was and they were coming and were going to take me back!"

"Shh, kid, it's ok. You're safe now."

"No," he panted, "I'm not, none of us are. They branded us, Uncle Shachi, we're marked for life!" Shachi had nothing he could say to that.

After a moment's pause he licked his lips and offered up the only thought he had that might bring the kid comfort. "Law seems to be an excellent doctor. In the morning we'll go talk to him, see if he has any thoughts on a solution."

"All right," Mouse whispered as he settled back into his blankets. A moment later Shachi had crawled into his own bunk and all thought on the conversation disappeared as sleep claimed him.


	9. New Paint: The Yellow Submarine

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you for all the favs, follows, and reviews ^_^

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

 **New Paint: The Yellow Submarine**

Law woke slowly the next morning. Yawning he stretched, rolled his neck around and flexed his shoulders. He had to admit that sleeping in the captain's chair in the control room had not been his best idea.

It was still early. He could tell that by the time glowing on the screen on the nearest console. He removed his feet from the top of said console and stood. There was a bit of rustling from the front of the room as one of the former slave men consulted a sea chart, checked a screen and then flipped a lever to adjust course slightly, and a muffled snore from the back of the room cause him to turn to see Bepo curled up on the floor one paw over his nose. Other than those two he was alone.

 _Bedep, bedep, bedep, bedep._ With that sound Law was wide-awake. _Bedep, bedep, bedep, bedep._ He reached to the right side of the console where he had placed his Den Den Mushi and grabbed the receiver. "I'm here," he stated simply. There was only one person who could call him on that line and he had been waiting for the call ever since leaving Krocylea.

"I hope I didn't wake you, Squirt," Came Captain Ryan Beckett's amused voice from the other end, "but I've just finished reading the morning paper and I couldn't wait to give you my response. Rargrargrargrarg," he chuckled. Law suppressed a sigh of relief. Chuckling was a good sign, but it was still too early in the conversation to tell if relief was the appropriate reaction. "Tell me, have you had the opportunity to read the article yourself?"

"I'm afraid I've not had that luxury, no." Law answered forcing himself to remain calm.

"Then I will summarize for you." Law could practically hear Beckett's smile. "According to the reporter on the island, and I do have a soft spot for this particular one, you took it upon yourself to free a bunch of prisoners, destroy the town square, and commandeer a marine ship, all while wearing my Jolly Roger in spite of claiming to be acting on your own. Is this correct?"

"More or less."

"The article also states that you had the opportunity to harm an ambassador to the world nobles but didn't take it. You did, however, incapacitate a marine captain and took a shot at a rear admiral?"

"Yes to the first, but that last pair were done by a pair of marines who have apparently decided they didn't enjoy their last command." Law settled back into the captain's chair. This conversation could take awhile. There were a great many loose ends that needed to be wrapped up.

"You always did like to give credit where credit was due, Squirt," Beckett laughed. "Well, let me give you my answer then." Law remained silent, waiting. He could feel the tension rising in his shoulders. How exactly had his actions been interpreted?

"Well done." The praise was a shock. Beckett was the type to hand it out sparingly. "You achieved your objective while declaring your allegiance to me, without sullying my name or forcing me to take responsibility. You also managed to avoid bringing the whole weight of the world government down on your head, or at least no more then might be expected anytime one opposes the marines. That girl's wedding and alliance must now be postponed until the whole matter is sorted giving us enough time to continue the operation. Your bounty will go up of course, but I'll leave you discover by exactly how much on your own. Yes, I will allow you to have your way."

"Sir?" Law questioned wondering exactly what Beckett had read into his actions. It seemed his Captain had interpreted a request when no request had actually been made. Not intentionally at least.

"If I interpreted things correctly," Beckett's voice took on an edge that implied he was not happy with having to explain that made Law flinch, "You want to sail on your own for while. Perhaps fly your own flag, build your own crew. Am I wrong?"

"No, sir." Law stated hurriedly realizing that he somehow had managed to achieve that particular goal ahead of schedule. On his own he would be free to pursue his own plans. Free to take down a certain man. It had never really occurred to him to start his own crew though, and he had to wonder why. As a solution that should have been obvious. But Law had lived so long helping others achieve their goals while hoping to spearhead his own, that taking the chance to fly the nest had never seemed a viable option. Now that door was wide open, and though he had no idea currently on how to pursue it, Law was determined not to let it slip away.

"I'll give you however much time you think you need. Sail around the world, build a fleet, search out One Piece for all I care. Just don't openly defy me, and check in once and awhile . . ." Law could only stare, not quite believing what he was hearing. "I take it you're sailing the marine ship for Saim?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good, I'll place a call and tell them to expect you . . . and, Squirt, don't make me regret this."

"As you frequently remind me, Sir, regrets can always be buried."

"So they can!" Beckett roared with laughter, "So they can!" he was still laughing with the line clicked off leaving Law to stare at the receiver in his hand feeling that for once in his life he had actually come out on the better end of a conversation with the man. He briefly wondered if anyone else was up and if there was a chance of food from the kitchen, but before he could move the control room door opened and Shachi entered followed by the boy he called Mouse.

"The kid has a question for you." Shachi stated bluntly. Law turned in his chair focusing his attention on the boy who looked at his feet nervously.

"I . . . we . . .you see . . . the thing is," he started and then heaving a big sigh hurried on in a rush, "we've got the hoof of the celestial dragons branded onto us And I want to know if you can take it off so we don't have to worry about being chased our whole lives."

Law frowned for a moment and then deciding it wouldn't hurt to at least take look, said as much. Within seconds the boy had unzipped his jumpsuit and tied the arms around his waist as a belt, turning his back so that Law could see the large, red, angry scar set at the midpoint between Mouse's shoulder blades. He couldn't help but let out a low whistle.

"It's like mine," Bepo's sleepy, confused voice rumbled from the corner the bear minkman currently occupied. "Like my burn that everybody insisted needed to be covered while the strangers visited. Does, does this mean they really do buy and sell other humans too? Why would they do that?"

"There are many people in this world that ask themselves that same question." Law answered hoping it'd be enough of an answer for the minkman to let things drop. He didn't particularly feel like trying to explain humanity's dark side to his furry friend. Not when just the concept was enough to leave the ursine in a mental quandary. In some ways Bepo had been uniquely sheltered in that moving kingdom of his.

"As for these burns," Law continued not quite touching the scar, "there's very little I can do. If it were fresh it'd be entirely different but as it is . . ." he shook his head, "your best bet is to cover it up somehow."

Looking extremely disappointed and keeping his eyes on the floor Mouse began shrugging back into the top portion of the dingy brown jumpsuit. "Ok." He muttered in a rather defeated tone of voice, but Law wasn't done with the subject yet.

"It's said that when Fisher Tiger formed the sun pirates many of his crew were former slaves. It has been reported that they branded over the hoof with the mark of the sun. Your other option may be somewhat less painful though it might not be as easy," he waited a moment as the boy met his eyes. There was a squeak from the front of the room as the man currently driving the submarine turned to listen. The topic of conversation was relevant to him as well and Law was relatively certain that by the end of the day the information would be passed along to all those for whom it applied, saving him from having to answer the same question from multiple parties. "If you find someone with the appropriate tools there is the chance the burn could be covered with a tattoo. Although with scaring like this it may take several sessions to cover, and due to the nature of this particular burn, you'd want to make sure your artist was extremely trustworthy." The light of hope in the kid's eyes as he expressed gratitude and ran from the room was almost enough to make Law wish he possessed those particular skills himself, almost.

-:-:-:-

Bepo wasn't sure if he liked this place or not. It was hot. They were under water. It was hot. There were strange people all over the place. It was hot. The machinery made strange noises. It was hot. Most of the humans seemed to be tense. Did he mention it was hot? His fur was designed to keep him warm in a cool climate not the other way around. He tried to endure it without complaining, really he did. For all Bepo knew complaining would hurt the marines' feelings and after they had helped Law that was the last thing he wanted to do. He had remembered one of the men in the strange dingy jumpsuits talking about how large the refrigerator was and tried to go there, but Shachi had said he couldn't. It wasn't safe to close himself in and the food would go bad if the door were left open, so Bepo had ended up back in the control room in the coolest corner he could find out of everybody's way.

They'd been sailing like this for two nights and a day. The men in the brown jumpsuits were doing most of the hard work while Penguin and Shachi ran calculations and made sure everything was working properly, lending a hand where needed. The other marines seemed to be keeping the refugees out of the way, not letting anyone enter the lower two floors of the submarine. Nobody tried to stop Bepo though. Bepo thought they might not try even if they wanted too. The boy with the burn mark that looked like Bepo's ran in and out of the control room carrying sea charts. Sometimes he would talk to Law, sometimes he would talk to the man at the helm. He never talked to Bepo though, even when Bepo twice corrected the man at the helm because the sea currents were too dangerous the way they were going. The kid seemed shy. Everybody seemed shy of a talking bear. Nobody quite understood the concept of a minkman. Bepo had to admit to himself he was lonely, and had been for some time.

The only people aside from Law who really seemed willing to talk to him were Shachi and Penguin. The later seemed to be trying to comfort him, asking about whether he liked fishing and if he was interested in medicine too, the former seemed to mostly want to know how Bepo had fared after disappearing all those years ago, what Zou was like, how many people like Bepo there were. Both of them made a point to apologise for "that" incident. Either way Bepo was just happy that some of them wanted to be his friends. They didn't have much time for it though. The closer they got to the island the busier they became until about mid-morning when Mouse shouted excitedly that if the charts were right they should be able to see the island in the next half hour or so. Bepo was able to confirm that, provided the human's information was correct.

"Bring us up!" Law ordered and a moment later Mouse was on the com system with the engine rooms.

"Good," Shachi's voice declared through the speaker, "we can take the opportunity to recharge the batteries." There was a bunch of other chatter back and forth about ballasts and the correct rising angle and speed that Bepo didn't particularly understand. What he did know was that the sub was going up to the surface, and the surface meant he could go outside. Outside with fresh air and maybe a nice cool breeze. He rushed from the room as quickly as a nine foot tall bear minkman in a cramped space could and made his way to the top. All the way to the top. The exterior door across from the captain's quarters would be the first to breach the surface and so it should also be the first he'd be able to open.

He was right. The moment the submarine had settled on top of the waved the little red light above the door went out, signaling that it was okay to open the hatch, and Bepo was out on the wet deck and in the fresh air. The smell of salt water and brine assailed his nostrils and he could hear several gulls cry as they sailed overhead indicating that they really were close to land. In fact he could see it, a dark green shadow on the horizon. An island was there. How long would it take to arrive, could he stay on the deck the rest of the ride?

"Enjoying the fresh air, Bepo?" Law asked in an amused sort of voice the sweater he'd been wearing the night they left Krocylea held in one hand. Behind him trooped out a group of the others, all looking around as if trying to get their bearings.

"I don't understand," A teenager in a black fur hat was attempting to argue with Law, "why here? Why wasn't it on the map?"

"Lets just think for a moment." Law finally snapped over the kid's demanded answers, "what could a notorious sailor, especially a pirate, gain from having an island removed from the maps, and paying the cartographers to keep it off any new ones?"

The youth stared at him for a moment licking his lips, "you mean this island is a pirate base?" His eyes flickered to the hoody Law held, "one of Ryan Beckett's Pirate bases?"

"Well it's good to know you're not a complete moron! Good grief." Bepo could smell the irritation rolling off Law as he turned and thrust the shirt in the hands of the nearest marine, the one who was theoretically supposed to be in charge. Really if Law had been a minkman he would be growling. It was a wonder these humans weren't trying to run back inside to get out of the man's way. Could they really not sense it? Or were they just trying to be brave to the point of stupidity.

"See if you can't jury rig that to fly off the main mast as a flag," he ordered.

The former marine Shachi had named as Christian only stared at him. "Why?" the man questioned, Law shot him a look that made the man back up a step, but he was still fool enough to wait for an answer.

"I'll assume you want to arrive on that island alive," Law shot back. "Do as I say or we all die!" Christian ran for the nearest ladder hoody waving in the breeze.

"Would the people from the island really just kill us?" the boy questioned, "wouldn't they wait to find out what we wanted first?"

"Ordinarily, yes, they would wait." Law sighed, "but this ship bares marine markings and I'd rather not take any more chances than necessary. He paused and then pointed at the horizon. "You better hope that shirt looks enough like Backett's flag because here comes our welcoming committee."

Bepo looked where Law was pointing. Sure enough in the distance were two long slender ships with furled sales, that seemed to be cutting through the water against the wind at an amazing speed. It took a moment for Bepo to see they were propelled by long banks of oars. They seemed to be coming from the island, which was now close enough for Bepo to make out the topography, mostly flat with a few small hills and clumps of trees, and what looked to be a town on one side. At the sight of the ships the deck cleared remarkably fast and Bepo was soon left standing with only Law, Shachi, Penguin, Christian, and an old man who seemed to have been elected leader of the Krocylean refugees. Bepo thought he remembered his name to be Lionel. The governor's family had frequently bought corn from the man after the harvest. He complained about his aching joints a lot.

In a matter of minutes the ships had pulled up to the submarine, one to each side. Bepo watched, hackles rising as both vassals' cannons leveled at the submarine, but neither fired. He could see the one on the right pulling a little closer then the other. A tall man in a brown trench coat and a broad brimmed hat stepped up to the railing. "Are you there, Trafalgar Law?" he called, "Our prestigious Captain called the island the other day and said to anticipate your arrival on a marine ship. I did not expect it to be a submarine, but the sweater flying as your flag led me to believe that this is what he meant."

"I'm here, Kane Salih-ya." Law called back. The annoyance was gone from his scent, Bepo noticed; instead it was something Bepo could only call caution. "I apologies for the inconvenience, but I must humbly request permission to dock and possibly permission to stay permanently for some of those aboard this ship."

There was a long pause before the man called back his answer. "I was instructed to give you whatever you asked for. It seems you have found yourself in the captain's favor. Still terms must be . . . negotiated. Come to me at the big house with a representative for those who wish to stay. I cannot believe you mean yourself. We will discuss the logistics then. In the meantime you may dock at the south bay. Until the marine markings on this ship are changed I will not allow panic to be caused by your docking in the main port. One of my ships will escort you."

"Understood, Kane-ya. I look forward to our conversation." In a moment the man was gone having disappeared into his ship's cabin, and the ship was pulling away sailing back towards the island. The second ship seemed to reign in its speed as if it thought the submarine wouldn't be able to follow but Law sent Christian to the control room with the new heading and a moment later the submarine was moving at a pace that easily showed it was capable of as great a speed above the water as below.

"What's with the way he talks?" Penguin muttered quietly to himself, but Law heard.

"He was born to a noble family, seems to think manners make the man. If you ever have the need to speak with him I highly recommend you remain polite the entire time, no matter how tempted you may be to do otherwise."

Shachi snorted. Bepo understood. Law himself had not been very polite in that encounter.

Bepo chose to stay on the deck as the ship sailed in watching the island grow closer and closer. He could hardly contain his excitement as they pulled round the opposite side of the island where there was a small crystal clear bay. It was a ways from the town, a sprawling village of one-story buildings spiraling away from a single large one at its center. Bepo supposed that was the big house that had been mentioned but he didn't really care. This island was warmer then Krocylea, the trees were already green. He could see a few patches of snow remaining from the winter, but fresh grass was sprouting everywhere. He could hear songbirds that had returned, and from the appearance of the water below him he was sure the bay was stocked full of fish. He hardly waited for the sub to pull in before he had leapt from the deck into the water, ignoring Law's call of warning. He was a bear and knew how to judge water's depth. There was plenty there for a swim.

-:-:-:-

Law smiled and shook his head as he watched Bepo splash into the water. They wouldn't be here for long; he might as well have some fun. Of course the bear minkman could always decide to stay. For some reason the thought was a melancholy one. Law shook his head, and reentered the sub heading for the lower level deck and one of the rafts that he had seen stowed away in case of there being no actual dock handy. Law had to admit that Kane had a point about marine markings potentially causing panic in town.

He found three men waiting for him. Christian, Lionel from the refugees, and a large grim looking man in a brown jumpsuit who had apparently been appointed to represent the former slaves. Law nodded and motioned them to follow him to where several of the others has already set up and lowered the raft into the water. Law was the first down the ladder, but the others were quick enough and he was pleased to find that none of them seemed to be in the mood to waste any time. Not that he blamed them. Law wanted this to be over as quickly as possible. He didn't particularly like Kane, and he hated playing the other man's games.

They reached the shore in a handful of strokes and the hike into the town went relatively quickly as well. No one bothered to look around much at the scenery, but Law did note that the majority of the buildings had the same grey siding and black roofs, including the big house, as the last time he had visited the island. The big house was the largest building around, it sat squarely in the center of the village, and by all definitions it wasn't really a house at all. Rather it was something of a city hall, courthouse and jail all thrown together. Law rather doubted the wisdom in that. If a prisoner escaped, for example, what was to stop him for going straight for Saim's governing leaders? Of course the main governing leader was Kane so then that hardly mattered.

They were ushered inside by a short man with balding black hair and a simpering smile, and then taken up to the third floor by a nasal voiced chatty receptionist in stiletto heels that clicked obnoxiously on the wood floors as she walked. She left them as the door to a large conference room that seemed to be comprised mainly of windows in two of the four walls, a large table, and several large leather chairs. Had he not been so irritated Law might have been impressed. Kane stood hands behind his back facing one of the windows, and Law hastily stopped pinching the bridge of his nose before the man could turn around. The others looked at Law for direction and despite the availability of the chairs remained standing until invited to do otherwise.

"As I stated earlier," Kane began still staring out the window, "I have been given orders to do whatever you asked and I will not disobey those orders despite the inconvenience of your request. However, as much as I would like to allow your friends to stay here I cannot just wave my hand and expect everything to go smoothly. Arrangements need to be made and that is why I have invited you all to speak with me." It was here he turned to face them and finding everyone still standing gestured to the empty chairs, "have a seat, gentlemen, Have a seat, please." And as if acknowledging that they had been waiting for his permission Lionel, Christian, and the larger man all took chairs. Law, only, remained standing waiting for Kane to take a chair of his own at the head of the table, before he moved for the one at the opposite end. In dealing with Kane it was always advisable to maintain equal footing if at all possible.

-:-:-:-

Shachi found he actually liked this island, he had not expected too. But there was something about being on an island that belonged to pirates without having someone shouting at him to arrest everyone in sight that he found extremely appealing. Still it wasn't as if he'd been left with nothing to do. The submarine needed to be repainted and cleared of anything related to the world government and the marines. No one had directly told him too, but he knew it had to be done. And the rather thin-faced pirate from the long ship Shachi had spoken too agreed readily. For a pirate the man had been surprisingly friendly.

Law hadn't been gone more than an hour when a rather chatty woman arrived with several men in dark suits and a cart filled with paint cans and brushes. She was rather pretty in her own way, with long lashes and dark curling hair, but there was a nasal quality to her voice and her laugh was one of the most grating sounds he had ever heard. Yet in spite of her voice Shachi very quickly learned what was going on at the big house, in fact he learned a great deal more than that, but he preferred to focus on what was relevant.

They had to repaint the submarine. The only color available at the moment in a great enough quantity was yellow. Unfortunately there was only enough paint to cover over the black, but as there was no need to repaint the underside, not that they could without a dry-dock, it would work out well enough. Yellow was an odd choice, Shachi mused. In his experience submarine were generally only painted a lighter color on the bottom with the upper portions being black or some other dark color, it made them harder to see in the water, but at this point, Shachi would rather sail in a yellow submarine then one marked as if it still belonged to the marines.

That had been a relatively easy decision. There was no doubt in his mind that he and Penguin would go with the submarine. Of everybody aboard they were the only two who really understood how to operate the thing. Shachi had already discussed it with Penguin. They would take the submarine, along with whoever wanted to come with them, and set off about their own adventure. Of course Shachi was still hoping Law might choose to join them he had only known the man briefly as a youth and a little over two days as an adults, but he had been impressed. There were few men he had met who could take command and issue orders, not because they desired power, but because somebody genuinely needed to. Shachi easily remembered what Law had said about not taking orders from men who had committed mutiny, but he had to wonder if that extended to not sailing with them.

-:-:-:-

"Excuse me, as I see it you cannot get regular merchant ships here, so your supplies are limited to what your men bring in. The land is fertile, why not let our families' farm it? It'll be an extra source of food for this island, we'll have a safe place to live outside both Nertim and Vinsmoke territory, and perhaps make a profit in the bargain . . ." Law tried not to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. They'd been having this conversation in circles for the past hour and gotten nowhere. But the more Lionel repeated what Law saw as a completely valid point the more Kane seemed to wear down, and the more worn down he grew the more ground he gave. Law was beginning to think he could walk out of this meeting and no one would be the worse for it.

"They'll need men to work the fields," the low rumble belonging to the larger man, a former slave Law had learned was named Daichi, echoed, "and many of us are skilled at other work. We're not afraid of hard work; all we want is a chance to live our own lives . . ."

Kane frowned a focused his gaze on Law as if this entire situation was his fault. When one looked at it properly Law supposed it was. "You're rather quiet over there Trafalgar-san."

"I see no reason to interfere." Law answered calmly.

"You have no interest in their future?"

"They may do as they want. Their future is their own now and I bare no responsibility." Yes, he probably could leave now. There was no reason for him to sit in on this when he had no intention of staying on that island himself. He said as much rose from the chair, nodded politely to Kane, and made his exit. He left the Den Den Mushi Bekett had given him on the table. A clean break would be best, and besides, he could always find another if he needed to check in. He had the number memorized after all.

He took his time walking back, poked around town a bit, scrounged a copy of yesterday's paper, and found a small café where he could get some food. Unfolding the paper he found the story he wanted near the bottom of the page and read it through searching for anything Beckett hadn't mentioned that could potentially get him in trouble later. But there was nothing. The woman who had written this, a Ryan Katherine, had apparently seen the first part, and gotten the second, after the square had cleared, from a "reliable Marine" but the essence of the story was exactly what Beckett had summarized. Everybody believed that the Surgeon of Death had challenged the marines on his own whim, and nobody believed he had meant to do anything to the ambassador. The only new bit of information had been his name. Oh there was a slightly vague description of what he looked like written into the last paragraph, but nobody had had a camera at that time, and the description was the type that could describe pretty much any tall young man with dark hair.

"Did you not see yesterday's paper?" the waiter asked as he came over to refill Law's water glass. "That's one of ours that did that, that is." There was a note of pride to his voice and Law being somewhat curious about what the man would say allowed the conversation to go further.

"Have you ever met this Surgeon of Death?" he asked casually leaning back and motioning invitingly for the man to take a seat. The man grinned but remained standing.

"Na, or if I have met him he's never introduced himself. "The man put the water pitcher down on the table and wiped his hands on a dishtowel that had been draped over his shoulder. "I've heard plenty of rumors though. We get plenty of crew members as pass through here that have worked with the man. They tell stories."

"What kind of stories?" Law asked his curiosity piqued.

"Well mostly as how they like working with the man. They say he can be incredibly cruel brutal even. They say he has no heart. They admire him for it."

Law had to keep his face impassive at this information. He had to wonder how he came across as cruel. He'd did not enjoy killing, and he very rarely actually inflicted pain, certainly not just for pain's sake.

"Heartless? You mean that Surgeon of Death fellow?" another man called coming over to join in the conversation a sandwich held in one hand, mustard dripping down his beard, "I heard he destroyed Krocylea the other day. They say he cuts people and leaving them still alive to watch as he cuts up their friends." The man laughed, "Now there's a trick I'd like to learn, imagine the psychological torture you could put a person through by doing something like that!" Law nodded he got it now. What he saw as a way to defuse the situation with as few fatalities as possible was seen by others as some sort of sick game.

"Did you hear what he did on Krocylea?" a third, this time a woman, asked joining in, "they say he saved a whole bunch of people from the world government. If the world government was involved then I say they needed saving."

"What's the world coming too that a pirate becomes the hero!" yet another added.

In a matter of minutes they had drawn even more people into the conversation. Each eager to have their say, every opinion more or less the same as the first. Law was left wondering if he had grown fangs overnight, or had two heads, or something even worse. The way these people spoke the Surgeon of Death was some sort of heinous monster that should be admired for being able to occasionally do the right thing, not that he had been expecting anything different, but at the same time it was not a comfortable conversation. Eventually he found a way out, paid his bill and disappeared into an alley before anyone could realize that the man who had started the whole thing was gone.

As he left the back end of the ally he could hear a young boy whining loudly to his father. Something about not getting to hear about the Surgeon of Death and his friend had told him the man was on the island having freed a bunch of slaves, and he wanted to meet him. "It's not fair," the kid wined, "why can't I go? Maybe he's there talking to them."

"Life's not fair," the father's voice snapped "yes you admire him for freeing those slaves, but one man cannot simply stop that practice on his own. It's not the way the world works." Law couldn't help but finish that statement his head. So many times during his medical training he'd made that exact same argument and always Dr. Ika had responded the same way, "then change the world."

And though completely out of context the words seemed to echo in his head over and over again. Change the world. Penguin's remark about the soul of the world being sick flashed through his mind again along with his resolution to find a way to heal more than simple illness. Change the world. Law was no man's hero; he didn't want to be. Neither was he a sentimental sap, that he would never be, but he was a man with opinions, a man who could see how sick and twisted reality actually was. Before he hadn't cared. His life hadn't been his own he could only survive in this world. But now, now that Beckett had given him his freedom, he had a chance to actually do something, something worthwhile, something to prove to himself that he was actually capable of doing what he wanted to do, no matter what that was, even if it involved challenging the perceptions of the world as it currently was. Change the world? Yes, he would not only challenge it, but he would change it and it would become all that he believed it should be. By the time he was done the world would be his, not so much because it was right or wrong, not simply because he wanted to prove he could, but because it needed to be done. He didn't know if he was right or not, but history could be the judge of that. Perhaps for one he was actually living up to that secret name of his.

If he was going to do this and if he was going to succeed he'd need people to help him if he could find the right ones. Nakama as the phrase went. Perhaps Bepo? But then he remembered a promise he had made long ago.

When he finally got back to the ship he was in for a surprise. The submarine was in the process of having its upper portion painted yellow, which was three quarters done, and it seemed the refugee woman had emptied it of anything that had not originally belonged on the ship and were now sorting it to piles of what should stay on the ship, what they would like to keep, and what they believed could potentially be sold to fund their new future. They would need it, but there were a few things Law could see that would be needed on the submarine if there was not already a second aboard. Charts mostly, and a few navigational logs. He pointed that out to a dumpy woman with grey hair and she nodded with a smile moving those things into a fourth pile, he took advantage of the opportunity to ask for any medical journals, but she assured him those had been moved to a shelf in the medical bay.

There was another pile off to the side of various cloths. Law knew in an instant that those had not come from the submarine. Where they had gotten them Law didn't know. And he didn't particularly care so he didn't ask. But still, It was nice to see the slaves in normal clothing. The boy Mouse especially. The kid looked much more normal in a green striped t-shirt and denim shorts. Only those still painting the sub, including Shachi and Penguin in their blue marine coveralls, wore anything from their past lives, but Law had the feeling that the moment the job was done those cloths, now covered in splotches of yellow paint, would be discarded as well.

Law didn't take too long to admire the sub's new paint job, or remark on the fact that it looked even more like a surgeonfish now that it was yellow, but turned his attention to finding Bepo. It didn't take long. The minkman was off to one side dozing in the sun. Though he did sit up at Law's approach. Law didn't bother trying to beat around the bush. "It seems I am now in a position to fulfill a promise I once made, Bepo. If you like I will find a way to return you to your home on Zou."

Bepo blinked at him for a moment, "Zou is the island I was born on and I have studied navigation so i can get back," he tilted his head and his ears drooped slightly, "but my home is with my friends. I still want to come with you . . . " Bepo's next expression could only be described as hopeful. "I'm a bear minkman, there's not much I know how to do on a ship except protect people, or when it's going to rain, or where north is, or how to read charts, and besides Annette wanted me to go with you . . ." Bepo dropped his head again, "I'm sorry, you don't need to be protected."

Law could only sigh and shake his head "but it's nice to know a friend will have my back when things go wrong and as the future is nothing more than a vast uncertainty, things will go wrong." Bepo looked up. Giving Law a rather toothy grin. Perhaps to those who did not know the minkman it might look like a snarl, but Law was convinced that if the bear had a longer tail it would be wagging. There was, however, one tiny obstacle to overcome and several things Law needed to be sure Bepo understood. "You know I'm a pirate, the world government will never give up the chase."

"I'm ready." Bepo insisted, "If you're a pirate I can be one too!"

"You're going to need a ship," another voice cut in and Law turned to find Shachi and Penguin standing a yard or so behind him, "Penguin and I, well we happen to have a submarine that'll do nicely."

"Your former X.O.?" Law asked wondering exactly what Christian would have to say about all of this.

"By going to represent those who want to stay on the island he has indicated he wants to stay as well. Therefore he has no claim on the Acanthuridae. Besides he couldn't sail it without both Penguin and myself and he's not exactly the kind of man I'm willing to take orders from." Shachi paused and then grinned, "Not unless I'm ordered to do so by someone I am."

"The point is," Penguin jumped in, "the two of us are willing to sale the submarine, if you are willing to take command. We used to joke about sailing together as boys didn't we? Might as well make that happen"

"Neither one of you wants to be captain?" Law questioned not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Too much responsibility," Shachi grinned at the same time Penguin put in,

"Captains have to keep track of too many things. Perhaps someday, but I want to have a bit more fun before I try my hand at that job."

Still Law wasn't quite convinced, "why me?" he asked softly.

"Because since we set off from Krocylea you've had complete control of the sub and I haven't second-guessed your orders once." Shachi shook his head slightly. "It's been a long time since that's happened."

Penguin only grinned, "What do you say, Trafalgar Law, will you be the captain of the Yellow sub Pirates."

Law frowned, "the what?"

"I told you that was an awful name!" Shachi grumbled slapping Penguin upside the head.

Law sighed, "If we're going to be a crew then we'll bare the name of the very thing the world claims I lack. A heart."

"The Hearts Pirate," Shachi grinned, "I like it."

"Ironically enough also the former symbol of the only person I ever admired," Law continued.

"I have no problem with that," Penguin answered a thoughtful look on his face.

"Those that inspire us should always be remembered," Shachi answered, though for some reason he was looking at Penguin when he said it.

But the excitement was broken by Bepo's rather confused voice.

"Don't Pirates have to have a Jolly Rodger?" the three men looked at the minkman and then Law burst out laughing. Pulling out a notepad from one of the nearby piles of junk, Law began to scribble. Starting with the North Blue's smiley base he began to draw six arms radiating out from the center, and added within a well remembered smile.

"It looks like a virus." Penguin observed and Law smiled.

"Well, you once said it seemed as if the world contained a sickness of the soul, who better to cure it than the Surgeon of Death."

Before anyone could comment further Law felt a tugging on his sleeve. Turning his head and looking down he found Mouse, chewing on his lip and looking at the ground. "Yes?" Law asked wondering what the kid wanted.

"I want to come too." Mouse whispered twisting his hands in the front of his shirt, "I want to see the sea and all the islands, and be around people I like. People I feel safe with." He looked up at Law, chewing on his lip slightly before continuing, "I won't be a burden I really won't. I can keep things clean, and help fix things, run errands, and I can learn to do other stuff so . . . Can I? Please?"

"Ah let the kid come. We need an extra hand at the helm, it seems Bepo can navigate better than any of us, but his paws aren't exactly designed to run the controls," Shachi put in in the kid's favor.

Bepo's head drooped, "I'm sorry."

"At least Bepo's ability to run the controls is better than your marksmanship." Penguin muttered dryly under his breath, but they all heard and Mouse smiled rather bashfully, obviously finding the remark funny, but not being quite sure if he should laugh. Law made a mental note to ask for the story later.

"Do you have any family?" he asked the boy not quite sure if he should take the kid if there was any attachment to any of the other former slaves.

"Not sir." Came the soft reply.

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen sir." Law sighed thinking Mouse was too young but then he had been quite a bit younger when he set sail the first time.

"What's your real name?" he asked finally, deciding to grant the kid's request. Mouse mumbled something Law couldn't hear. "What?"

"Antalya, Hayreddin, sir."

"Well that's a mouthful," Law grinned at him, "I can see why Shachi calls you Mouse. Alright kid, if you're absolutely sure you want to be a pirate I won't say no." Mouse's smile was radiant now and though he looked like he wanted to jump around and shout he managed to contain his excitement to one set of questions.

"So when do we leave?"

"What course, Captain?"

"We leave when Shachi and Penguin say the Submarine is ready." Law said simply. "As for a course I've been itching to sail the Grand Line." Yes, if he was going to attempt to change the world, he needed to start with the permanent removal of one man. And if he was going to succeed he'd need people to help, his Nakama. Law looked at the two men, the boy, and the bear-mink in front of him and smiled. For the first time in his life he was finally going to get to write his own story.

"The Grand Line?" Shachi questioned, "Do you mean to go after One Piece? Or is there another objective?"

"I have a plan, but there is no need to disclose those details until I'm certain it has a chance of succeeding. As for One Piece, I don't plan on obtaining that particular item just yet."

"Then why do I get the feeling that we should still be prepared to make that happen?"

"A word of advice, gentlemen, when you sail with me, be prepared for absolutely anything."

-:-:-:-

Seventy-two hours later they were ready to go. Or at least that's what everyone told Bepo. Nobody else would be coming with them they had all made arrangement to stay on the island as far as he knew. They had checked the food supplies, the medical supplies, the equipment, and all the life support systems. They had painted the sub, and gotten a flag, and marked the sails. Everything was ready. Bepo just hoped they could sail this time. He did not like riding the submarine underwater. Law said they wouldn't have too.

The raft was in the water, Bepo was planning to swim over, but before the humans could climb aboard the young refugee with the black fur hat ran towards them. "Wait," he called out, "Mr. Surgeon of Death, sir, wait!" Bepo watched as Law turned his scent seeming somewhat impatient, but he was at least going to hear the boy out. "I uh . . . I wanted to . . . you see the thing is with having to run away from home and everything . . . it wasn't easy . . . with the marines . . ."

"Get to the point, Kid,"

"I'm sorry! I know I've been a pain in the ass and I'm sorry. Here!" the kid snatched the black hat off his head and held it out, "It's all I got, but I wanted to make it up to you somehow. I know you've got one already, but – just in case." Bepo could smell Law's surprise and irritation even as his face remained impassive, but the man reached out a hand, took the hat and tucked it under his arm. The boy's relived smile spoke volumes, but Law only turned away and climbed into the raft.

A moment later Bepo had leapt into water to swim after them. He might as well take advantage of the calm water while he had the chance. He wasn't sure what the next island would be like. The minkman swam a few laps around the sub while the others rowed to the ladder and climbed aboard using a pulley system to haul the boat up after them. By the time it was put away Bepo was ready to come aboard himself.

He shook off the moment he was standing on the deck, realizing his mistake only after he was finished.

"Bepo!" Shachi and Penguin growled in unison while Mouse just laughed. When Bepo actually bothered to look around he found the three humans dripping wet, and only Mouse looked anything close to happy about it.

"I'm sorry." He muttered looking at the floor. A moment later Law stepped outside a sea chart in hand, though his only response was to raise an eyebrow.

"Anyone have any suggestions for stops before we hit the Grand Line?" he asked proffering the chart and ignoring Shachi's grumbles about what exactly Bepo could do with the water next time.

"If I may, Captain," Penguin began, "if we're going to the Grand Line may I recommend finding a shipwright willing to sail with us? The waters can be rough there, and while Shachi and I can keep the submarine in one piece I would feel far more comfortable having a professional aboard."

Bepo watched Law nod in agreement. "Any exact place in mind?"

"In North Blue, we should probably head for Lothal."


	10. The Port of Lothal

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

 **The Port of Lothal**

Lothal, Penguin couldn't remember being this excited to visit an island in quite some time. He'd never been there, but his instructors had mentioned it frequently as the home of one of the best shipyards in the four seas. Supposedly top innovators of ship technology, it was said the workmen there could take any design and make it a reality. Of course that assumed the design was any good to begin with. It was even said that their craftsmanship could rival that of Galley-La on Water 7. Now he was finally going to get the chance to see for himself.

Adjusting his hat he leaned back against the deck's railing, and stared out past the bow at the horizon. The hat was a good find. Buried at the bottom of the pile of hand-me-down clothing everybody had been sorting through, Penguin had first noticed the red pompom sticking off the top of the black cap. Picking it up out of curiosity he'd found the word 'penguin' scrawled across a white background above the yellow bill. The hat had probably been meant for anyone who was a fan of the animal, but Penguin hadn't been able to pass up the article of clothing baring his name. He was especially glad he had it now as they sailed to the island at high noon while the sun beat down from directly overhead.

To Bepo's great and obvious relief they had been sailing the entire way. Sailing meant the bear could sit up on the deck as much as he liked. It also meant that the machinery didn't have to work as hard making the interior of the submarine cooler as well. Shachi was just as thrilled about the sailing as Bepo was, but in Shachi's case it was because being the only two on board who knew how to work the sub's diving mechanism meant he and Penguin would have to do a grueling amount of work. Penguin didn't mind work as long as it didn't mean any heavy lifting with his right shoulder, which was feeling a great deal better along with his neck, but he agreed with Shachi's opinion that it'd be nice to have a few more sailors with whom to share the load.

The sub pitched a bit with the waves and Penguin had to grab his book before it could slide off his lap. Law had been as good as his word when Penguin had asked him if he really would teach him medicine, and had given him a text of gross anatomy with instructions to start memorizing. It had never really been Penguin's intention to become a doctor, but after recent events he had decided that Shachi was right, and that in the worst case scenario he should at the very least know how to keep someone stable until the captain could get there. Law seemed to think that should be the case for everyone on board with the possible exception of Bepo.

Shachi had already been quizzed on everything he knew, been pronounced competent, and handed a book on, well Penguin didn't know what it was but Shachi's expression had not been one of gratitude. The Captain, however, had seemed rather laid back about the whole thing and confident that the two of them could handle it. That perhaps, Penguin mused, was the reason Shachi hadn't objected. As for Mouse, well the boy had to learn to read something aside from charts and maps first before anyone could give him a textbook. The poor kid was actually going to have to learn several other things as well, including how to fight, and perhaps more importantly that it was okay to both ask for things and offer up his opinion during a conversation. Unlike his last captain, Law didn't seem to mind when someone voiced an opinion. Oh he expected to be obeyed when he issued an order, though those were infrequent, but Law was more than willing to hear out the others' points of view. Mouse, however, would stand in the corner and chew his lower lip until someone straight out asked him what he wanted to say. Penguin had the sneaking suspension that he'd grow out of it soon enough, especially if the kid hung out with him for a while. Shachi had frequently accused Penguin of being too free with his opinion, and too loose with his tongue.

Shaking his head, Penguin turned back to his book, intending to move on to memorizing the bones of the hand, but Bepo suddenly began dancing around waving his paws and shouting, "Land, land, I see land!"

-:-:-:-

Lothal was a great deal fancier than many port cities Law had previously visited. The dockyards surrounded a good portion of the west side of the islands, with what looked like shipping and freight yards to the south, going rapidly from piers and boardwalks directly into a city where most of the buildings were three to four stories tall, and dressed in what seemed to yellow and orange sandstone. Those buildings also seemed to have high arched windows and a few had colonnades along the walk to their front doors giving the whole place an air of luxury and prosperity. But Law's trained eye could pick up areas that were not doing so well. Stonework that was more subdued than the rest, a park here that wasn't as well maintained, the burned out shell of a building there. It was nice to know that this place too had its underworld. If the reputable shipbuilding companies refused to help him, he could get what he needed from a darker corner, if for a different price.

"If I remember my history correctly, there used to be a quarry on this island as well,"  
Penguin said helpfully as the submarine pulled into an empty dock. "I never did pay too much attention in that class, but there was something about Lothal that's always piqued my interest."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to look around," Law said in answer. "Once the sub is settled I'll take Bepo with me to speak with some of the shipping company owners. The rest of you may do as you like as long as you're back on board by sundown."

As things turned out Shachi and Penguin had several items they were hoping to procure for the ship, the least of which being a set of new boiler suits to be worn in the engine rooms. "It's not a fashion statement," Shachi had argued when Law questioned why they were necessary, "It's a safety issue! If I had caught it in time I might have managed to snag a few of the marine suits before those women got rid of them all, but the fact remains that they did get rid of them and now we need new ones."

Law still didn't quite get the necessity, but he let Shachi have his way on this one, "If you find what you're looking for get a set in all different sizes as well," he sighed, "they'll be good for any new crew members we may obtain." Shachi saluted him, and motioned Penguin to follow him into town, both men currently in jeans and t-shirts instead of the coveralls they'd been originally wearing. Law had a feeling that if Shachi found what he wanted he'd be back in a boiler suit before the day was out. The man claimed the things were incredibly comfortable, but Law had no desire to see for himself.

"Are you sure you want to stay on the sub alone?" he asked turning towards Mouse.

The kid nodded, "I've never been in a city like this, and I don't want to slow you down." The boy stared at his feet, "besides, I want to practice reading some more." Law nodding remembering the children's books the lad had found on Saim before leaving. They were perfect for a beginner, and Mouse was a quick study.

"Well, if you need anything use the baby den den. Penguin took the red one, and I've got the yellow . . ." the kid nodded in understanding and, grabbing Bepo, Law made his own way into the city absent-mindedly scratching the top of the baby den den's head as it sat in his black hoody's pocket. This hoody of course was unadorned. No need to raise any red flags in this city.

Law had to say one good thing came of taking his navigator with him. People had a tendency to pay attention to a nine-foot talking bear. Whether it was just getting out of the way on a crowded street, or answering his questions as quickly as possible their eye never left the minkman until it was time to move on. Had he been on his own it probably would have taken Law twice as long to learn what he needed. In no time at all they found themselves outside a three-story building covered in yellow stonework, staring up at a sign that read Pencroff and Sons'. Of all the questions he had asked, this office had come the most highly recommended as the company best able to work on a submarine. Now, if only one of the employees would be willing to sail with pirates.

All things considered it was surprisingly easy to get inside. The receptionist stared at Bepo warily, but she buzzed his message through to her boss. Instead of having the two leave a name and number as he had been expecting, Law and Bepo were then escorted up two flights of stairs and towards a rather large office on the third floor. "What's the point of owning this company if I can't talk to customers when I want to!" a loud gravely voice shouted at someone in the office, and then as they gained the doorway that same voice echoed, "Come in, Come in! You have an interesting job for me, as I understand it. You, sir, sit there in the chair in front of my desk, and if Mr. Bear would sit on the couch- I'm afraid I don't have a chair big enough, you will accept my apologies I hope?" the man in question was a rather large gentleman with a bold nose and a long handlebar mustache. His long dark hair was pulled away from his face, and he wore a navy blue suit with the emblem of a ship sailing behind an anchor on the breast pocket. The same symbol had been painted on the lobby windows.

"Would I be correct in guessing that you are Pencroff Phineas?" Law asked shaking the man's hand as he took the indicated chair.

"That I am, that I am," the man agreed settling in behind his desk with a broad smile.

"Then before we begin, you should know that I, and my crew, are pirates. My name is Trafalgar Law," Law started preferring to begin with honesty. Call it a test. His willingness to work with this man would depend entirely upon his reaction, and if he reacted poorly . . . well, Law had no problem bringing his business elsewhere.

"Father, you might want to reconsider . . ." a young, thinner man with the same coloring and nose started from the corner of the room. Obviously the one who had been arguing with the company's president a moment earlier.

"Nonsense, nonsense, I have a firm policy of never turning any customer away, as long as they can pay their bill." The older gentleman waved the concern of the younger away.

"But he's the Surgeon of Death . . ." the younger tried again.

Phineas only smiled, "My son Orval hasn't quite learned that the term pirate isn't synonymous with evil just like a marine isn't synonymous with good. Rather there is a gray area that covers the whole. I prefer to look at what a man does, instead of who he says he is. And as long as I'm paid . . ." he spread his hands wide and shrugged. Law smiled, he liked this man.

"I don't understand," Bepo muttered from where he was sitting on the couch like a large furry sack of potatoes, "the sign said 'sons' there is only one . . ."

Orval sighed, "my younger brother prefers to spend time with his less than reputable friends doing who knows what . . ."

But he was interrupted by Bepo's rather sorrowful rumble of, "I was rude, I'm sorry," leaving the man with a completely dumbfounded look as he stared in astonishment.

"Wait," he gasped, "that was the bear? The bear talks?"

"I'm a minkman, I'm sorry," Bepo grumbled again and it was all Law could do not to shoot more than a pointed frown at the younger of the two business owners.

"If we could continue," Law muttered turning his attention back to Phineas.

"Yes, yes of course," the older man agreed hurriedly, frowning at his son, smiling at Law, and folding his hands on top of the desk. "At this point the best plan is to let my men look over your ship, we will then meet to discuss needs, options, and price."

"That sounds reasonable." About ten minutes of questions and answers followed with Law asking the man about everything from the types of tools he used to how many years his foreman had been with the company. Phineas, in turn wanted the ship's history. Sea King encounters, recent storms, who made the last repairs, that sort of thing. Fortunately Law had had Penguin and Shachi give him the rundown of the details before they had left the ship.

"Good, good. Orval will get you a map," the man in question left to do so, "if you sail up the coast to the north you will come to the company yards. Dock nine will be set aside for you, as long as you're there by ten tomorrow morning I'll assume you still want us to do the work. You are, of course, welcome to shop around at the other yards, but you may find they don't have the same level of experience."

"I think your men will do fine," Law answered, "We'll be there by ten, probably before."

Law stood, collected Bepo, and turned to go when Phineas called him back. "One thing before you go?"

"Yes?" Law asked turning back towards the desk

"You haven't seen a Klabautermann aboard your ship have you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"A Klabautermann. A specter of sorts. Wears a raincoat, wool cap, and boots, runs around with a caulking mallet. They're said to warn the crew during times of danger, rescue anyone who goes overboard, and even be talented with music. To have one aboard means you sail on a blessed ship, but to see one is a horrible omen. It only appears if the ship is doomed. You haven't _seen_ a Klabautermann have you?"

Law smiled slightly, "no," he said softly, "I never have."

"Father," Orval snapped returning with the promised map and handing it to Law, "they have better things to do then listen to your superstitions."

"Well, if they had seen one I'd know not to waste my time on the repairs." Phineas stated with a perfectly straight face twirling one end of his mustache.

-:-:-:-

Shachi could only stare down the street in wonder. A whole street devoted to clothing. The designer of this place must have been a woman. Still, it would make finding a proper boiler suit easier, or it should. Five minutes later he wanted to bang his head against a brick wall.

Nearly every store he had patroned had at least one person who had not even known what a proper boiler suit was, and of those that did they had no idea where he might find someone who sold them. Shachi was about to give up altogether when Penguin spotted a tiny tailor's shop located down an alley between two of the larger and obviously more prosperous stores. Sincerely doubting whether it was even worth it Shachi followed only to stop dead as he spotted the window display. There, perfectly positioned between a brown duster and what looked like a frilly pink ball gown was a neon orange jumpsuit built large enough that Shachi was convinced it might actually fit Bepo.

"Well," Penguin stated holding the door open, "you coming or not?" Shachi stopped staring and entered the shop. It was a rather cramped space with bolts of fabric lining one wall, threads, and trim on another. Several catalogs lay out on stands each open to a different design. A small bell clanged as they entered and after a moment or two of rustling from a doorway behind the counter a rather dumpy red haired woman came out winding a bit of lace back around a spool.

"Well boys," she said in a rather chipper voice, "what can I do you for today."

"We saw the boiler suit in the window, " Penguin started, "and we were wondering if you did custom orders."

"Custom orders? Now that is a request." Her smile was positively beaming. "And I take it neither of you are married else you'd have asked my prices first." Shachi and Penguin shared a look but before either could say a word she continued. "Yes, I can custom order boiler suits, or make them here depending on design and quantity. I'll give you price lists and a time table for you to peruse, and as it is quite obvious neither of you have ever purchased clothing this way before I suggest you take your time about it." As she spoke she begin pulling out various papers and several fabric swatches of materials she recommended for the job. Shachi's eyebrows climbed higher and higher over his sunglasses as he watched her and he was about attempt to duck out and let Penguin deal with the situation when the Baby Den Den rang. Pulling it out of his pocket Penguin excused himself and walked outside, leaving Shachi to listen to the woman explaining something about reinforced stitching which he didn't particularly understand. Fortunately Penguin was back less than a handful of minutes later.

"Captain found a company willing to work on the sub," the younger man explained, "they're moving to another dock. I've got directions."

Shachi saw an opening, and seizing the opportunity nodded to the woman, "well, we thank you for your time and recommendations and as soon as we've discussed it with our crew we'll be back to place an order.

The woman snorted, "talk it over with your captain you mean," but she was smiling, "well tell him if there are any questions he should feel free to drop in himself, and you won't find better work this side of the Grand Line." She waved cheerily as they started to leave but something in a dark corner of her counter caught Shachi's attention and he turned back.

"How much for the hat?" he asked pointing at the item in question. It was a teal-blue cassette with a salmon colored brim, but it wasn't the colors that had caught his attention. Rather it was the memory of exactly how bright the sun had been on deck that morning and the fact that at the moment his only hat had the marine logo across the front. If he didn't get himself a new hat soon he'd regret it, and he might as well buy the one on hand as waste time looking for another. To his surprise the price she named was relatively low, and after he handed over the required sum he settled the article on top his head and left. Shachi heaved a sigh of relief as the door clinked shut behind them only to be brought up short by a sound of commotion from the far end of the alley.

The distance wasn't long, the length of the end of one block to another, but it was just dim enough in the alleyway to make out four figures, three pounding on the fourth, in what seemed to be a mugging gone wrong.

"Hey!" Penguin's voice suddenly rang out in a shout that echoed from the stone covered walls of the surrounding buildings, "Leave that man alone!" not one of them even looked up. "Hey!" Penguin shouted running forward obviously intending to intervene.

Shachi cursed and followed him, "Damn it, Penguin, you're still recovering from that last battle. Do you really think the captain's going to be pleased if you aggravate your shoulder?" But Penguin was already in the fray, though he was using only his left arm to strike at the men. Another few feet and Shachi would be there himself, though he didn't really know why he was getting involved except to pull Penguin out in one piece, but before he could jump in his foot caught against the edge of an old broom that had been leading against one wall and he was sent tumbling forward.

Shachi rolled, managing to maintain his position enough to come up between two of the assailants smashing his elbow into the jaw of one of them, and then grabbing that man's collar and using him as a battering ram against the second. Penguin seemed to be handling the third alright on his own while managing to use only the one hand to strike with, though he also placed some well-aimed kicks in his opponent's ribs. The victim had managed to stagger away once he was released, and Shachi saw him pick up the broom he had just tripped over and began removing it head. What he was going to do with it Shachi wasn't sure, and he wasn't given any time to figure it out as the two assailants recovered and started at him again.

The first feinted to the left and then charged and Shachi had just enough time to dodge to the side and plant his fist in the man's short ribs before turning and letting the man's companion crash into his comrade. That was one of the first rules of fighting multiple people in confined spaces. Let them get in each other's way.

The second man shoved his companion to the side, steadied his feet and then took a swing at Shachi. Shachi was forced to backup a step, eyes widening in surprise as he realized that this one was well trained. Rather than his buddies round house, widely considered to be one of the slowest and easiest to dodge punches known to man, this guy was working in short quick jabs, keeping his center covered and pressing Shachi back a step at a time. Shachi wondered briefly if number two had been a professional hire, but he knew that if he didn't pay attention eventually his back would be up against a wall, literally, and he would be left hoping one of the others would have time to jump in.

Just then there was the sound of a tremendous _CRACK_ , and his opponent glanced back for a split second. Shachi used that split second to duck under the man's guard, wrap his arms around the man's middle, and carry him forward to slam into the wall on the other side of the alley.

He then let go, took a step back, reset himself, and then struck with his own jabs. Jaw, jaw, solar plexus, the man doubled over and Shachi grabbed him, pulling him down and driving his knee into the man's gut. There was a cough, and his opponent collapsed to the ground with a groan.

It was only then that he was able to turn and see what was happening with the others. Penguin seemed to have backed out of the fight clutching at his right shoulder with a grimace of pain, Shachi had warned him not to overdo it, and the man Penguin had insisted on saving was instead saving him. The loud crack Shachi had heard had evidently been the sound of the man snapping the broom handle in half, probably over his knee. Young; somewhere around Captain Law's age; wearing khaki cargo pants, work boots, and a black tank; bare arms covered in some rather interesting tattoo work; with a bold nose, sandy hair, and a bandana tied around his temple; he was standing rather protectively in front of Penguin, one handle half held firmly in each hand, wielding them as one might wield a pair of short swords, or perhaps long knives.

The last two of the men faced him wearily, neither one of them sparing Shachi a second glance. Well that was their mistake to make. Bending down Shachi picked up the discarded head of the broom, flipped it around so that the hard edge was out with the bristles against his palm, and slowly slipped up behind one of the assailants. The bandana wearing man nodded in understanding and leapt forward at the other even as Shachi struck the first, bringing the broom head down across the enemy's skull effectively knocking him out. The other was down in three blows from the man they had just managed to rescue, and when they were sure none were going to get back up again the three men exchanged a glance, and began running for the clear end of the alley.

As they ran, the only one of their attackers to remain conscious, the one Shachi had taken care of first, forced himself to his knees and shouted, "Make sure you give the old man the message, Pencroff. Do you hear me? Give him the message!"

-:-:-:-

Bepo was a little surprised that Mouse wanted him to come along. He and Law had returned to the ship and moved it to the dockyards of the shipyard belonging to the man with the big mustache, and then Mouse had joined them on the deck and quietly whispered that he wanted to see the town. Law had immediately agreed, but Mouse had shaken his head, smelling a little bit wary, and asked if Bepo couldn't come instead. Bepo had expected his captain's feelings to be hurt, but he hadn't smelled hurt at all, rather Law had smelled understanding, smiled, handed Mouse the green baby Den Den Mushi and told him to have fun. He patted his pocket with the now sleeping yellow baby Den Den as if to say he'd be reachable if they needed him.

He'd also given Bepo some money just in case they needed to buy food somewhere. Bepo had stared at the little pile of papers in confusion until Mouse had laughed, taken them, and put them in his own pocket. Bepo still didn't understand why humans found the papers so valuable but they did. It wasn't like they were the valuable metal coins some other islands used, or rare gems, or even items of equal value traded for another, and it was only that one type of paper too. He'd learned that the hard way in a stationary store. Mouse had dragged an incredibly apologetic bear minkman out of a stationary store after he had asked the clerk why she wasn't worried about the large quantity of valuables left out on all the shelves. After a bit of confusion a very red faced boy had explained to the woman that the Bepo had apparently made the mistake of thinking all paper was money, asked very quick directions to a place where he could get some shoes, and dragged him out even as Bepo said he was sorry over and over again all the while trying to figure out exactly what his mistake had been. He felt incredibly stupid and wished that at some point the others would have explained the paper form of money sooner. Mouse had refused to talk about it, so Bepo supposed he'd have to ask Law when they got back to the ship. He was going to have to start asking more questions too, instead of letting Law volunteer information. Law was always willing to explain things provided he thought Bepo would be able to understand, or at least grasp the general concept. The minkman even had a general knowledge of treatment and basic illness. It was the little things, the things Zou did differently that caught him off guard. Things like paper for money. He wished he could remember his home island better. He might understand more if he did.

Shoes, as it turned out, was something Bepo understood quite well. It was a very good idea, he thought, to protect the undersides of one's paws from sharp objects and tiny pebbles. He missed wearing shoes. As he followed Mouse into the store he wondered if it would be okay to ask the salesman if they had any that would fit him, but the moment he saw the inside of the store he felt sure they would. Row upon row of shelves with various types of shoes displayed above and stacks of boxes underneath. There were various signs stating that if any help was desired to please ask a salesman, and there were more shoes in back if a particular size couldn't be found. And it smelled strongly of leather and shoe polish, not of stinky feet as one might expect.

Bepo watched as Mouse looked around and then quietly approached a salesman. A rather wiry fellow with dark hair, wire rimmed glasses, and a bright red apron.

"Yes?" the man asked smiling calmly.

Mouse licked his lips and then stated, "I want to buy some sneakers, sir, but the thing is . . . the thing is I've never been allowed to look at them on my own before and . . . and . . ."

"And you would like some help?"

Mouse nodded, but before anyone could do anything more Bepo stuck his nose in over Mouse's shoulder lowered his head to where the man could see him and asked, "What are sneakers?"

The clerk's eyes widened behind his glasses, he took several staggering steps backwards, grew very pale, and for a moment Bepo thought he was about to faint. There was silence for a minute, and then two, and then the clerk, in a very calm voice, though his scent was filled with panic, said simply, "Is the bear with you?"

"His name's Bepo," Mouse said simply, "and everyone calls me Mouse."

The clerk nodded, gulped, snatched off his glasses and cleaned them on his apron before putting them back on and looking back at the two of them. His scent was much calmer now and Bepo supposed he had simply startled the man and that since he seemed better there was no need to apologies. "Well, Mr. Bepo, and Mr. Mouse, if you will follow me just over here I can show you what sneakers are and help you find the right pair."

Sneakers as it turned out, was a type of shoe with thick rubber soles that were supposed to be good for running. Bepo asked why they weren't called runners instead. When all the salesman could do was stare at him Mouse answered, "Because they sound so quiet." And as if to illustrate the point he got up and jumped up and down a few times so Bepo could hear. Bepo's ears quirked. He had to admit they were a lot quieter than the Captain's boots. The pair Mouse was wearing at the moment were bright white with some sort of red swoop on the side, and after walking around in them he declared that they were much more comfortable then his old boots. The boots in question were currently lying under the chair and Bepo could easily see that they had been worn to the point that the soles were beginning to peel away from the uppers.

"I hope so," the man smiled, "but may I point out that white will show dirt extremely quickly, so unless you're willing to spend a lot of time keeping them clean, might I suggest one of the colored options this brand sells. They may be a bit more expensive but . . ." as the salesman explained the pros of the colored sneakers vs. the cost, Bepo got up and walked down the aisle to where he could see the work boots displayed. Of all the shoes in the store these seemed to be the largest, and most likely to fit him. Besides Bepo had seen some very large humans walking around this city, they would need shoes too right? So there must be something.

He picked up the largest boot he could find and put it next to his paw. Comparatively speaking it was very small. Bepo heaved a sigh as Mouse came over now wearing a pair of black sneakers with red swoops. "You want some too?" the kid asked, but Bepo's ears drooped.

"They won't fit." He said feeling disappointed, "they're made for human feet, not my paws. If I was home on Zou there'd be a whole section for Bear-minks."

"I'm sure they have something," Mouse muttered, "Mr. Salesman, sir, isn't there anything in back?"

The clerk frowned, tilted his head, and nodded, "I may have something."

Five minutes later Bepo and Mouse were walking down the street both enjoying their new shoes. The clerk had found something called steal toes that Mouse had pointed out would prevent Bepo's claws from going through the front. Bepo liked the idea, though they felt odd and heavy on his paws. They were also very noisy compared to his bare paws, but it was nice not to have to worry about the pebbles between his toes.

"There's one more place I want to go." Mouse stated looking up at him, "and then we can go back to the submarine unless there's something you want to do?"

Bepo shook his head. For the time being he was perfectly content.

-:-:-:-

Law jumped as the little yellow baby den den mushi rang. He had completely taken over the captain's quarters on the top deck of the Acanthuridae, there being enough room for the space to double as an office as well as a bedroom, and with the windows wide open to let the fresh salt breeze through he had become so engrossed in his notes and a volume on rare diseases of prehistoric islands that he had completely forgotten he'd brought the baby Den Den into the room. Though for awhile the creature had been insistent on wanting its head scratched a bit more.

"Captain!" Shachi's relieved voice sounded the moment he'd picked up the receiver, "you wouldn't happen to have a med kit handy?"

"Let me guess," Law muttered a bit dryly, "the two of you managed to get into a bit of a scrape?"

"Well actually it was Penguin who got us into it." Shachi laughed, "I think he may have aggravated his shoulder . . ." there was a muffled protest from Penguin who seemed to be trying to say he was fine, but Shachi just continued talking over him. "But the med kit is actually for a new friend we just made. Better yet he says he lives nearby where Penguin says you parked the sub, so if it's not too much trouble . . ."

"What's the patient's condition?" Law asked already on the move. Baby Den Den held firmly in one hand, he made his way down through the submarine to the medical bay where he began pulling various needed supplies and placing them in a bag. It wasn't long after that that he was following Shachi's third hand directions up the docks towards the home of their new friend, supposedly located somewhere near the end of Pencroff and Sons' southernmost pier. Law didn't think twice about leaving the submarine without anyone on it. One of the perks of paying to dock in a shipbuilding company's yard was that one also got to take advantage of said company's security.

"You have got to be kidding me!" he sighed as he approached the place he had thought he had been directed. Right in front of him was a rather large, ranch house style, mansion. The company's encircling wall rising behind it. Surly he had made a wrong turn somewhere. Anyone could see that this place belonged to the president of the establishment. Perhaps Shachi's new friend actually lived in the company housing three streets over and the man had simply gotten the directions slightly wrong.

He turned around, and groaned. There were Penguin and Shachi walking up the road, Shachi supporting a rather beat up looking sandy haired man who shared the same bold nose as the two men Law had spoken to earlier that morning. Penguin was walking slightly behind them, rubbing his shoulder and looking slightly sheepish. "Does anyone want to tell me what happened?" Law asked as the door to the great house opened behind him and a rather elderly looking man in a gray, pressed suit ran out calling to his young master about that very thing.

Ten minutes later they were all seated in the main living room of the house with steaming cups of coffee and cake which Law refused to touch; the cake not the coffee. He had bandaged the man's wounds, a few bruised ribs, a black eye, and more than one split area on his lip; delivered a prognoses for a speedy recovery provided the man took it easy until any soreness went away; and checked on Penguin's shoulder, which remarkably bore no further damaged beyond being a little sore from too much use too quickly. The room itself was rather spacious with large portraits on the wall, wide open windows with white curtains flowing in the same breeze Law had been enjoying earlier, and plenty of couches and chairs made out of what mainly seemed to be brown leather and oak.

"I take it you are the younger son of Pencroff and Sons'?" Law asked returning his gaze to the man who quite frankly looked nothing like the child of one of Lothal's most prosperous businessmen. "I had the pleasure of meeting your father and brother this morning when we made arrangements for repairs to our ship." Law said nothing about also wanting a shipwright. He'd seen no one so far who seemed as if they might want the job and he preferred not to offer it unless he was sure.

"I'm Verne," the man said with a rather lopsided smile and the air of someone who wasn't sure what to think of the person asking the questions, "My sister Julia should be around here somewhere. Her husband may show up at any time, and then there's Orval's wife, Danean, and his kids, Lindy and Will. You may see them sooner or later actually. In fact you will, if you'll all be my guests for dinner as a thank you. The rest of your men as well . . ."

"We'd be grateful," Law cut him off, "Penguin, Shachi, whichever one of you has the Den Den please let Mouse and Bepo know." Shachi got up to place the call as Law continued, "But that still doesn't answer the original question of _what_ the hell _happened_." He pierced each of them with a glare and was pleased to see Verne lick his lips as Penguin stared at his shoes.

"What happened," Shachi started returning to his seat and tucking the red baby Den Den back into his pocket, "is that when we left the shop, which has very good prices on boiler suits by the way, we looked down the alley and there was this guy apparently getting mugged. Penguin jumped into help, and I jumped in to keep him in one piece."

"Wait, wait. What happened?" a loud voice boomed as Phineas entered the house and marched into the room his mustache quivering with emotion. "You were mugged, son? Did you see their faces? Did you get their names? Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention? Orval! Get in here and call the police so we can report this!"

"Father, sit down! You know better than to get over excited!" Orval snapped with a frown going not to the Den Den Mushi, but to grab his father's arm and shove him into a chair.

"Don't worry, it's not like that." Verne muttered, forcing a smile and trying to calm the older man as well. "Captain Trafalgar already patched me up . . ."

"What? What? Captain Trafalgar?" and for the first time the man looked around the room noticing he had guests.

"I am a doctor." Law said with a smile watching as Orval set into to lecture his brother over dragging perfect strangers into dangerous situations. There was obviously at least ten years between the two, which would logically make Orval the oldest child of the family and Verne the youngest with the sister they had mentioned falling somewhere in between. And then there was the father. Law kept one eye on him noting that he didn't look too good. His breathing was a bit short and his face a bit pale, though he seemed to return too normal after a few minutes in the chair. Still, that fact that both of the man's sons seemed to think he needed calming implied that something more than shock was going on.

"There's still something that puzzles me about the whole incident" Shachi muttered, "What did that man mean about it being a message?"

"It's nothing," Verne frowned at him, but Shachi was shaking his head.

"No," Penguin put in, "they were oddly focused on you, didn't react to us at all until I hit the first one."

"Verne!" Orval suddenly hissed, "These weren't by any chance Nekonushi-san's men?" Verne remained silent though he held his brother's gaze, "And you're trying to hide it? What exactly did they want? What message?" still Verne remained silent.

"Verne?" Phineas questioned and Verne sighed.

"Don't worry, Pops. They were just trying to push the point they made last Saturday."

The older man sighed, "I worried it might be something like that. If they win, this city really is in for a world of trouble." Law opened his mouth to ask exactly what was going on and if his crew should expect any trouble when the front door slammed open and a slew of voices could be heard entering the house.

"Uncle Verne, Uncle Verne," a boy's voice called out as a rather hyper kid ran into the room, "I did it! I made the school ball team!" He was followed by a teenage girl with her hair braided in pigtails and a camera slung around her neck who, instead of saying a word to anybody, walked to the window, raised the camera, and shot a picture.

"Why is there a bear in blue shorts and work-boots walking towards the house?" she questioned letting the camera hang again. The room went silent and every adult present looked at her oddly, "No, I'm serious. There is an Ice-bear walking up the road on his hind paws, wearing a set of work-boots and a pair of blue shorts. There's also a boy walking with him, but he looks normal."

Everything clicked into place for Law who smiled and stood, going to the window. "It must be Bepo and Mouse."

"Why is Bepo wearing boots?" Shachi asked joining him.

"Perhaps it's his way of getting you to let him back into the engine room?" Penguin quipped remaining seated. "You did kick him out on the premise that you didn't want to be responsible if anything fell on one of his paws."

"So he went out and did something ridiculous like buying a pair of boots? Oh I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that one!" Shachi muttered, though he was smiling as he said it.

"Actually," Law pointed out, "it's an extremely practical use of their spending money, and it wouldn't be the first time I've seen Bepo in proper clothes. I've been wondering when he was going to change back. He is a minkman and not an actual bear you know." He was about to go and get them, but Verne was already there, no doubt trying to dodge any further conversation on this Nekonushi fellow.

"You look awfully disappointed for a kid who just got a new pair of kicks," his voice echoed from the entry hall. To which Bepo's rumble could easily be heard responding.

"He couldn't get a tattoo. They said he wasn't old enough." It was all Law could do to school his face blank.

-:-:-:-

Dinner was excellent. Consisting of BBQ, it was a meal designed for a large family with plenty left to accommodate the entire Heart pirate crew including the bear-mink. The meal even included grilled fish, which their captain seemed to prefer over everything else, demolishing his share down to the bones. Penguin enjoyed the meal for an entirely different reason. Had they not been invited it would have fallen to him and Mouse to cook that night and dinner out meant he got another night's reprieve from dishes. With the exception of Bepo, who seemed to think everything was fine nearly raw, they all took a turn with KP duty. Even the captain who, Penguin was led to understand, did mostly prep work and cleanup because Shachi wasn't convinced that even with all his medical genius and leadership skills that Law could put a meal together that was actually edible. Though in Penguin's opinion the man made one damn good cup of coffee.

As the meal ended and the kids disappeared the adults were left to whatever conversation they desired to have. What started out as an innocent conversation about Verne's sister's two-year-old's next birthday quickly turned serious when the Captain asked the question that had been on Penguin's mind for some time. "So what is this warning that was given and should Penguin and Shachi expect trouble because they chose to intervene?" The entire table went silent and then erupted at once.

"The things you have to understand is . . ."

"You don't need to get involved . . ."

"This is terrible trouble, terrible trouble . . ."

"Daddy," interrupted the soft voice of the sister, "perhaps you'd better start at the beginning."

Phineas looked at the table a moment his mustache quivering before he began to speak. "What you must first understand is the ship building companies of Lothal don't function the same way as many others do. Instead of thinking of us as many smaller companies, think of us as many sub companies of one larger corporation."

"Think Galley La, but with a committee in charge instead of a president." Penguin put in.

"Exactly, exactly." Phineas continued. "Not only does this arrangement keep the profit flowing, it keeps any one man from having too much control, although the President does have the power to make certain decisions he must consult with us first, and it keeps us from getting overly competitive with each other. After all it's hard to cheat someone out of a rigging job when you need their help with a new sail design the very next week. And then there's the fact that this lets us all have our own little specialties. The Masters family make excellent icebreakers, and this family," he gestured down the table at his sons and daughter, while not our core focus, are at the top when it comes to submersibles."

"And so the reason everyone I spoke to recommended me to you." Law muttered.

"Precisely, precisely. Now, the current CEO of our main branch, HullDesign Incorporated, is Mr. Nekonushi. He's got this scheme into his head that he can turn a huge profit by selling the entire company to the World Government. Those who sell, either through him or separately, gain a profit. Those who don't are left with shares worth half their original value. Everything to world government touches seems to tank lately.

"Unfortunately for his plan to work he needs control of at least fifty-one percent of the shares." Phineas continued, "Also unfortunately for him, the original owners of the original companies still maintain their original rights and ownership, putting us at about eighty percent. Now there are a few who agree with him, and they have already sold him their shares, as for the rest of us . . . I recon there are about for or five solid hold outs and the rest are up for negotiation."

"To make a long story short," Orval cut in, "Mr. Nekonushi doesn't have what he needs to continue the buyout and the only negotiation technique he has remaining in his arsenal is intimidation."

"Which is what your men interrupted today, when they saved me from that beating." Verne added.

"In an honest world he'd never manage it." Orval muttered

"Unfortunately this isn't an honest world." Verne quipped back.

"Well you'd know all about that, little brother!"

"BOYS, boys," Phineas cut in before things could turn into a full fledged argument. "I apologize, Captain, for dragging you into our troubles. No, what this Island needs is a way to show the World government what Nekonushi really is, a lying, cheating, dishonest son of a goat! They'd never do business with him then." He shrugged, "not that such a thing is likely, but any one capable of doing that might find I'd be willing to repair their ship free of charge for as long as she lasts." He sighed, pushed his plate away, and stood. "Now, if you'll all excuse me I'd like to play a bit of ball with my grandson before it gets too dark." And with that he left the room, Julia hot on his heels, Danean and Orval disappearing not too long after.

That left the Heart Pirates and Verne seated around the dinner table no one quite wanting to say anything before Law suddenly burst out laughing. Penguin looked at his captain askew wondering exactly what it was the other man found so funny before Law took a deep breath and began to explain between chuckles. "I think it might actually be possible." He grinned, "I'd have to know a bit more about the mark, Nekonushi-ya and his staff, but I think we might actually be able to bring this little island some justice."

"How do you mean?" Verne frowned. Across the table Penguin could see Mouse mouthing the word 'mark' in confusion, and Bepo had tilted his head in the way that usually indicated the Bear was puzzled.

"Has anyone here ever heard of a fiddle game?" Law asked and then it was Verne's turn to laugh.

"Brilliant!" he roared, "Just brilliant" and then seeing that no one else understood he began to explain. "It's an old con. It used to be that one man leaves an old cheap violin with the mark for collateral and disappears to go collect the money he owes him. In the meantime a second man convinces the mark that the instrument is actually rare and valuable and he'd like to purchase it. When the first comes back the mark buys the violin but the second man has disappeared leaving him with an old useless instrument he paid way too much for . . ." Penguin nodded in understanding even as Shachi began to laugh.

"I don't understand," Bepo muttered, "why would this Neko person want to buy a violin?" All laughter ceased. Even though he had not actually understood the point of the whole conversation Bepo had managed to find the one major flaw.

"The bear's right." Verne answered the silent room, misunderstanding Bepo's innocent nature, "what are we going to sell him?"


	11. The Fiddle Game: Get Ready

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you everyone for the Favs, Follows, and reviews! 8D

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

 **The Fiddle Game: Get Ready**

The fiddle eventually turned out to be the Acanthuridae's blueprints of all things. Not that it could have been much else. The fact of the matter was that the Heart Pirate crew had very little they could legitimately offer the CEO of a several-trillion-beri shipbuilding company while maintaining a believable cover. Oh they could have invented something, but then one ran the risk of being asked to see the product and not having one available. They had, as a group, been at a loss until Verne had half heartedly asked who had designed their ship, more out of curiosity then anything, but the moment Shachi had answered Vegapunk he knew they had their answer. Anything even remotely connected to that scientific genius was of great value in the world.

Still, Shachi would be damned if he was going to let the blueprints for the Heart Pirates' submarine out into the world without making a few modifications first. Modifications that insured that if said blueprints ever fell into the wrong hands they would be absolutely useless to anyone planning to use them against his crew. The captain had agreed to that request on the spot, though he did set the condition that the modifications not be obvious. They couldn't, after all, run the risk of being accused of selling a fake. That would undermine the entire plan.

That was why early the next morning Shachi was set up in the mess hall of the ship copying the Acanthuridae's original schematics on to some top grade drafting paper Verne had provided for him, while conveniently leaving out key components of both the air circulations systems and the rudder control.

"How's it coming?" Law asked walking through, entering the kitchen, and starting the coffee.

"Just finished," Shachi muttered adding the last stroke to the last cross section before looking up and noticing his Captain was wearing a business suit complete with black gloves and a fedora. He had also shaved giving his face a distinctly more refined look. Shachi couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Law only grinned.

"Picked the suit up last night from that very nice woman who runs the shop you wanted to buy boilers suits from. I also told her to expect one of you this morning with the full order, and both of you might want to pick up a suit of your own. At the very least whoever ends up playing the buyer will need one. We have to sell this after all." Law returned with two cups of coffee to the table where Shachi was working, and set one down. Shachi noted that the one in front of him had just the right amount of cream where as the captain's was black. "Honestly, I'm thinking it'll be best to have Penguin pose as your personal assistant, do most of the pitching, and then if absolutely necessary bring you in as the official buyer. It might be more believable if this Mr. Nekonushi believes he's got the upper hand of all parties involved."

"And what gives a better impression of being in control than facing down a nervous assistant. Sounds good to me," Shachi answered taking a sip of his coffee, "just one question."

"Yes?" Now it was Law's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you dressed up? I thought we weren't starting this until tomorrow?"

"The main premise of this pitch is that I'm looking for the right buyer. I can't just randomly show up, they'll know something's off if I do. But If I'm seen around talking to various people in the business . . ." Shachi nodded in understanding. His captain was merely setting up the cover.

An hour later Shachi stood outside the seamstress shop trying to decide why he had come instead of making Penguin do it. It was Penguin who would need the first suit after all, but as he stood there pondering, Mouse, who had insisted on coming, opened the door and walked in leaving Shachi with little choice but to follow. Oh the proprietress was quite nice, as Laws had put it, but there was something about dealing with a woman who could give you only a glace and know what size trousers you wore, that put him on edge.

"Come on, Uncle Shachi," Mouse chattered as they left some ten minutes later, "it wasn't that bad. She even said that with those the basic measurements you brought her she cold make the suits and you and Penguin-aniki wouldn't have to come in again except for a final fitting." Shachi struggled not to glare at the kid as he skipped ahead wondering exactly how they had managed to get pulled into this whole thing. Oh, yeah, Penguin had a penchant for jumping into situations without thinking, especially when someone was in danger. This whole situation was his fault.

But Shachi was forced to put his personal grumbling aside when Mouse suddenly took off running. "Hey! Wait! Where're you heading." He called out running after the boy, taking a right, a left, and another right before rounding a corner just in time to see the kid disappear into a tattoo parlor. Shachi followed his brain clicking back to what Bepo has said the previous day about Mouse having been turned away for being too young.

"I've brought my uncle Shachi." He heard Mouse stating to the young man behind the counter as he entered the place. "Now can I get one?"

"You the boy's guardian?" the man grumbled ignoring Mouse all together and shooting Shachi a puzzled look. That fact that he and Mouse looked nothing alike would be hard to miss.

"One might say I'm responsible for him." Shachi replied casually stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. But he let his eyes roam over the establishment and he wasn't entirely sure he liked what he was seeing. Oh everything seemed clean and orderly, there was even a man in his early thirties in a chair near the window having a tattoo of what looked like a saguaro cactus touched up, and Shachi could tell at a glance that the artist doing the work had obviously just opened a fresh thing of ink (the packaging seal was still on the counter next to the lid), but there were other things that gave Shachi a prickly feeling down his spine. It was the same feeling he used to get right before something went wrong when he ran a mission back in the marines.

Perhaps it was just instincts kicking in from when he used to arrest lawbreakers and pirates and he should ignore them now that he was one himself, but those instincts had saved his life more then once and he was not inclined to ignore them. It was little things. Things like the fact the mirror in the corner was not tilted so that a busy clerk could see if someone was coming in the front door, but to see what was going on in back. There were five den den mushi of the kind Shachi had frequently seen used for surveillance which was four more than a shop of this size and type usually had, and there had been an attempt to cleverly conceal all but one, which was focused on the cash register. The clerk should have made Shachi prove he was Mouse's guardian, but he had pulled out a book of designs for the kid to look at implying that he didn't care, yet if he didn't care why had he refused Mouse the first time unless he just didn't want the kid around without someone to keep an eye on him. And then there were the two men in the corner.

The customer, a tall lean man with spiked salmon pink hair, the same color, as the bill of Shachi's hat actually, didn't even look up. Of coarse he was wearing dark sunglasses so it was difficult to tell. But the artist . . . a man in a profession where it is essential to keeps one's eyes on one's work should not have been staring at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, Kid, do you know what you want or are you just here to waste my time!" the clerk griped at Mouse. Shachi was just about to intervene when a very familiar figure appeared from the back room, wiping his hands on a cloth and smiling broadly the moment he saw Shachi.

"Hey, Shachi, my man!" he called out tossing the rag aside and walking forward to shake Shachi's hand. "What 'cha here for? A little touch up job of your own?" and he gestured at Shachi's own tattoo. Shachi looked down at his forearm and had to acknowledge the tat was fading a bit, but that was not what he was here for.

"Actually Mouse was hoping to get something done," he stated nodding at the kid who, ignoring the clerk, was still flipping through the design book.

"Really? I'd be happy to do the work myself."

"Verne!" the clerk snapped cutting in, "you know these guys?"

"Awe, Pete, didn't I introduce you? This here's Shachi. If it weren't for him I'd have considerably more than a black eye right now!" And Verne gestured to the mentioned area, which was a nice shade of plum. The clerk's face cleared immediately and with a nod and a slight smile he sat back in his chair and let Mouse look through the book in peace.

Mouse, however, was shaking his head in frustration. "I don't see it, Uncle Shachi, I don't see anything that'll work." He whispered.

"Well what were you looking for?" Shachi asked thinking it would have been a great deal better if Mouse had just told him what he was about to begin with instead of tearing off down the street the way he had earlier.

"Something that'd cover my scar." He answered quietly, and Shachi suddenly understood. No wonder Mouse had been so persistent. Shachi himself had been so caught up in getting the kid just to speak up now and again that had completely forgotten the boy was marked for life.

"You know, kid," Verne stated slapping a hand down on Mouse's shoulder causing the boy to flinch slightly, "A tattoo is a permanent thing more or less, you should have something you'd be happy with for life." Mouse looked at his shoes and Verne hastily tried to finish what he was saying before the kid could look even more depressed. "If you tell us how big an area you want covered and what kind of things you like the artists here could come up with some ideas for you. Or you could draw your own and bring it in."

"Really?" Mouse's eyes lit up, "all right I'll be back!" and putting the book back on the counter he was out the door as quickly as he came in."

"Speedy little brat isn't he." Pete muttered from his chair behind the counter.

"Yeah," Shachi agreed, "yeah." And then, "Verne, if you have a minute I'd like a word." A couple things had just clicked into place including Orval's comment from dinner the other night about Verne's understanding a dishonest world.

Verne followed Shachi out the door and down the block a few paces, but the moment they were out of sight of the shop's windows Shachi rounded on him placing one hand against the other man's shoulder and pushing him, though not hard, against a wall. "What kind of business you running from that back room?" Shachi hissed letting go and taking a step back. "Counterfeiting? Money laundering?"

Verne had the sense to look a bit sheepish. Though he stayed put leaning against the wall as if it had been his choice to stand there. "I'm a cobbler actually." He whispered back, "and a damn good one at that. How'd you figure it out anyway? Were you a detective or something before you turned pirate?"

"Marine actually. Master Chief." Shachi grinned at the sudden flare of alarm on the other man's face, "Don't worry I won't turn you in. Couldn't anyway. Not without turning myself over."

"Really you don't want to go back?" Verne asked stepping forward and beginning to lead the way toward the area where Mouse had run off too, pulling a cigarette pack out of his back pocket and offering Shachi one, which he refused.

"Let's just say that after the manner of my . . . retirement, returning wouldn't be a very intelligent decision."

-:-:-:-

Law smiled in satisfaction. It had been a very productive day. After receiving a list of names and contacts from the oldest Pencroff, he had headed out to visit each and every member of HullDesign Inc. And he had. And in doing so, in pretending to be who he needed to be, he had gained more information than he could ever have hoped for. All he needed and more. Even the way a certain Mr. Glassknow had him unceremoniously tossed from the property told him something, and all of it was information he could use.

Now, in late afternoon, he was walking down the deck yard toward his submarine, suit jacket thrown over one shoulder, tie draped loose, collar undone, gloves in one pocket. His lifted his free hand to feel his goatee free chin. It felt odd not to have that. He'd have to grow it back as soon as things here were over, but for the time being he'd have to remain clean-shaven. There were very few businessmen in the world that could be taken seriously wearing a goatee. Law was fairly sure he'd never be counted as one of them. Not on Lothal at least.

Up ahead he spotted Verne's niece sitting on the dock railing. What was her name? Lindy? She was still in her school uniform, backpack at her feet, camera around her neck, fully engrossed in the day's newspaper. Law wished he'd found time to read it himself. Maybe once he'd gotten back to the sub.

"Anything interesting?" he asked as he drew closer. She jerked at the sound of his voice and nearly fell off the railing into the water, but Law was ready with a hand to catch her.

"Oh hello." She stated one she had regained her balance, "you clean up nicely. Better than Uncle Verne at least. As for anything interesting . . . The Lothal Times sometimes includes articles from the Global Press. They did today. It's one of Miss. Ryan's articles, an editorial piece this time. She's very good. Here listen to this!" Lindy shook out the page looking very adult for her thirteen years, and began to read. "Were it not for that fact that I never speak ill of World Government employees, technically being one myself, this reporter might have some choice words to describe the incompetent nitwits in charge of the investigation of the events recently taken place on North Blue's Krocylea." Lindy looked at him eyes wide. "She does that a lot, insult people after she says she's not going too, I mean. It's a wonder she hadn't been fired by now."

"May I read that when you're done?" Law asked his curiosity piqued."

"Of course!" Lindy exclaimed looking pleased, "I try to show stuff like this to dad, but he never wants to read the interesting news. Uncle Verne will though. Here I've just finished this page." And she handed over the page in question before settling into another article. Something about the effect of Water 7s Puffing Tom on the local aquatic life by the headline.

Law carefully folded and smoothed the page over his knee before leaning against the railing preparing for a good read, and he was right.

Crossing the Frozen North

By RYAN KATHERINE

World Press

KROCYLEA. That's where this reporter is currently. Confined, not in a nice comfy bed at the local inn, not sitting in the library of the governor's compound after and extensive interview, not in the parlor of a local resident, or at the bar of a favorite local tavern, but confined, to the mess hall, of a marine warship originally assigned to take an ambassador to visit North Blue's member countries of the World Government. As you may know, Dear Reader, this reporter was assigned to this ship with the task of reporting all events of this voyage so that those who must stay at home may at least have the satisfaction of reading stories of another person's travels. It was this reporter's intentions of keeping you all entertained. Unfortunately events have transpired beyond this reporter's control, and so the task has changed. It is no longer to bring you entertainment that this reporter writes, Dear Reader, but to bring you information. The ambassador is gone. Another Warship has arrived, and departed, taking the man and his staff home to Marijois. There will be no ambassadorial tour of North Blue. Thank God!

Were it not for that fact that I never speak ill of World Government employees, technically being one myself, this reporter might have some choice words to describe the incompetent nitwits in charge of the investigation of the events recently taken place on North Blue's Krocylea. It seems there is no interest in the truth anymore among the marines. There will be no ambassadorial tour of North Blue, because what happened here in North Blue, is the ambassador's fault.

If you are reading this, Dear Reader, then the editor of the World Press has decided not to relieve this reporter of her job, and this reporter has not been thrown in prison. Both are very real possibilities.

What happened is this. A little over a week ago a group of farmers decided to protest their taxes. Such is not uncommon on Krocylea, it's part of the culture even. The ambassador took offence and ordered their execution. At their execution these farmers were saved by none other than several marines who decided to mutiny, and the Surgeon of Death, a Pirate. Those who mutinied were the smart ones. They were spared the Surgeon of Death's stroke. This reporter will not recount the battle, what was seen, albeit from a safe distance, is still enough to give her nightmares. What will be said is this. His name, is Trafalgar Law. There is no photo because there was not a camera handy. As for any increase in bounty, you must wait, Dear Reader for the government to properly assess the threat. This reporter suggests you keep watching because Law is not the only pirate rising to fame recently. There's also Kid, Hawkins, and Drake. If any one of these four reaches their full potential you'd better sit up, take notice, and make sure your door is locked at night. If all four of them do, then hold on tight, Dear Reader, because this world will be turned upside down.

As for the reason for being confined to the war ship? Those in charge were not pleased to find a reporter talking to the locals before a cover story could be formed. Before they could properly formulate a lie for the world to believe. Had the ambassador held his temper we might be safely in the Neritm court eating cake by now. Instead there is only cold coffee and stale sandwiches. The marines are all-over the island searching out possible hiding places of any conspirators. They won't find any. A submarine was stolen and it is this report's opinion that it will resurface with the Surgeon of Death for her captain and the mutinous marines as her crew.

Believe it or not the locals on this island seemed genuinely pleased at the concept, "Contrary to popular opinion Trafalgar Law does know how to do the right thing," stated Elgar Annette daughter of the governor of this island. Though she is not under investigation this reporter would not be surprised to learn the lady had a hand in recent events. But, if she did, could it really be considered wrong? The woman is heir to the Neritm throne after all, and what was done was done to benefit her people. Would any of us really fault a ruler for that? On one hand we have a strong and stable government willing to let men die because one of its members felt slightly insulted, on the other we have a very young, rash ruler in training willing to turn to villainous pirates to save lives.

This reporter knows which she would rather serve, and she must ask, Dear Reader, do you?

Law smiled, the chuckled, and then he burst out laughing, receiving a startled look from Lindy. "I didn't think it was funny it all!" she snapped as he threw his head back and roared.

"I'm sorry," he choked, "it's just that I never thought I'd find even a smidgen of honesty in the media. That, and there're some people I was concerned for that I now know are perfectly fine."

"Hello Miss. Lindy, Captain." Penguin hailed as he joined them. "Can I ask what the joke is?" Law handed him the paper and watched the other man's expression change has he read it. "Well it's nice to know they're not following us." He said finally, though unlike Law he was not smiling.

"Us?" Lindy gasped, and Law had to grab her arm as she tilted backward towards the water again, "You mean you guys are . . . are . . ." She gaped and stared at them wide eyed, "does this mean you're here to save our island too?" When neither of them dared answer that question she smiled, "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help!" She stated straightening her posture obviously trying to look grown up.

"If there's something we need that you're capable of doing I'll let you know." Law said finally. Still grinning she collected her stuff and ran off towards her house. Law frowned after her. She by no means needed to know that he seriously hoped never to need her help.

"Brave girl." Penguin stated, though he was staring at the newspaper meaning it was quite possible he was talking about the reporter and not Lindy.

"You mean stupid?" Law muttered and they both knew exactly who he was talking about.

"Depends on your definitions." There was a tilt to Penguin's chin that let Law know he was about to be stubborn, so Law answered with what he saw as pure logic.

"Bravery is facing an obstacle, being afraid of it, and pushing forwards in spite of that fear. Stupidity is looking at that same obstacle and having no fear. That girl, she looked straight at me, the Surgeon of Death, and I sensed no fear at all."

"At her age," Penguin countered, "an absence of fear when deciding to right a wrong is an accomplishment to be proud of."

"You may have me there." Law muttered with a smile gathering his stuff up and heading back towards the submarine.

"Hey Captain," Penguin called after him, " If bravery is pushing through fear to face an obstacle, and stupidity is not feeling fear at all, then what is it called when a man runs full force towered the obstacle for the sheer joy of taking it on?"

Law knew what Penguin was getting at, but he only looked back over his shoulder and gave his widest grin as he answered, "insanity."

-:-:-:-

Penguin's day had been relatively relaxed all things considered. He'd prepared breakfast and prepped chicken salad for lunch, with minor help from Mouse before the boy left with Shachi (doing both meals shifted the schedule back to where it was supposed to be), washed the dishes, started the laundry, attempted to teach Bepo checkers, played his harmonica for a while, went to get fitted for that suit the captain wanted him to have, and practiced his accent. Not just any accent either.

Penguin had once served with a man from Saguaro Island. It was a very unique sounding drawl, dropping 'g's off words ending in 'ing', Ah instead of I, heavy 'r's, strong 's's and 'x's, and contractions in weird places. And it was also very distinctive, the kind of accent that couldn't be mistaken for any place in North Blue. Penguin was supposed to be representing a man from the Grand Line. In fact he was doing so well with it that a little demonstration of the accent had told the seamstress exactly what kind of suit he was looking for or rather she had heard him practicing to himself, thought he was muttering under his breath, complimented him on his North Blue accent and then promised to make his suit "a little taste of home.' Penguin hoped Shachi would forgive him because if the other man was needed to play the part he was going to have to follow whatever script Penguin had set and the accent had been Penguin's idea from the start.

"But I knew where you were the whole time!" Mouse's small voice could be heard from the kitchen protesting against something Shachi had said as Penguin made his way to dinner that night. He entered the room to find Shachi glaring at the kid over a pot of pasta, as the boy in question stood off to the side looking very earnest, and Law sat at the counter dicing vegetables and obviously struggling not to laugh. "I could hear your voice . . ." the kid continued but Shachi cut him off.

"The point is not whether you knew where I was, but that I didn't know where you were. What if you had gotten into trouble? I can't hear your voice the way you can hear mine!"

Mouse looked a bit startled, and the glance she shot at Penguin was one that obviously asked for help. "I had a baby Den Den." He said softly."

"All right that's enough." Law intervened finally.

"But, Captain," Shachi protested, "He can't just run off like that."

"He's going to have to learn to look after himself sooner or later, especially if he wants to stay on this ship, which, if his insistence on joining was any indication, he does." Mouse nodded vigorously in reply to this. "If you're that worried about him," Law continued, "then teach him to fight."

The look on Shachi's face was priceless.

-:-:-:-

Law was up with the sun the next morning. He shaved, dressed again in the suit (feeling fortunate that the woman had managed to provide something that didn't wrinkle in the wash), and started the coffee, settling down to go over his notes and refresh himself on any pertinent details before he needed to be at HullDesign's HQ.

Sometime later Law was standing outside one of the largest buildings in the city staring at one little rather forlorn figure outside. Heaving a sigh he steeled himself to have to whole thing blown in a single instant, slipped into character and approached. "Hello, Miss? I'm sorry, but I'm looking for the main office of HullDesign incorporated, can you tell me if I'm in the right place?" His gloved hand clenched on the handle of his briefcase for a moment as Lindy's eyes widened for a second as she looked up at him, but fortunately the girl was far more intelligent than he had originally given her credit for.

"Oh? Oh! I'm sorry I didn't see you. Yes, I can help, their main office is just right there." She paused pointing, and then seeming to understand why he had approached her to begin with instead of just waiting for her to be gone, continued, "I was hoping to get an appointment myself. You see I'm writing an article for my school paper and wanted an executive's opinion, but . . . she shrugged. The administrative assistant said everyone's booked solid for the next month." She looked at her shoes, "I - I hope you've got an appointment yourself sir."

"Thank you." Law smiled, "since you have been so helpful why don't I drop a good word in after my meeting, maybe it'll speed you up the queue a bit."

"I'd appreciate it," she smiled at him, "well, have a good day, sir, and good luck." And hugging her camera to her chest, Lindy sped up the sidewalk.

It took him all of five minutes to get in. Passing the security personnel, one of whom had hair the exact salmon shade of pink as the bill on Shachi's hat, was the easy part. After charming his way past the male secretary, a sandy haired man with horn rimmed glasses, by dropping several very big names in just the right places, and then convincing the man in question that he had a very lucrative deal to offer, his request was passed up the proper channels until he found himself sitting in the office belonging to one Mr. Nekonushi. It was a large office with a huge mahogany desk at its center framed by a large window. Several bookcases lined one wall, and two large filing cabinets were set on the other. There was a large thick rug under his feet, but something felt odd. It took a moment for Law to realize it, but aside from the lamps there was not one single electronic device in the entire place. Not even a Den Den mushi. This man apparently liked to keep things old-school. In fact when Law thought about it the entire building seemed to be like that. He had seen a variety of priceless artwork on his way up here, and yet he had counted precisely two security Den Den Mushi. Both had been in the main lobby.

"I hear you had a proposition for me, Mr. . . . "

"Clancy," Law answered sweeping the fedora off his head and smiling, "Clancy Marko. And I do have something I think you'll be very interested in, Nekonushi-sama." Placing the briefcase on the desk before him Law clicked open the lid, took out the blueprints Shachi had drawn, and laid them out one by one before him.

Nekonushi was a thin balding man with more white at his temples then black, heavy crow's feet about the eyes, and a very ill tempered longhaired, white cat that liked to hang around the office. The animal hissed from its position on the CEO's desk and took a swipe at Law's hands as he laid the blueprints out. Law very carefully did not say a word, only struggled to maintain the smile, as Mr. Nekonushi scratched the animal under the chin. "Now, Now, Mr. Clawz," he hummed, "Clancy-san is our guest. We must be polite." The cat tilted its head and squinted its eyes in a manner that said quite plainly the he was the most powerful being in the room and knew it.

Law forced a chuckle and continued. "As you can see, Nekonushi-sama," he started, "What I've brought you are the blueprints for a brand new, sailing class, fueled submarine. You'll note that the hull design and rigging promise nearly as much speed above the water as below, full weapons systems, collapsible and stowable rigging, a full galley, capable of crossing the harshest oceans . . ."

"That's all very nice," The CEO cut in, "but why should I be interested?"

"Sir," Law answered feigning surprise to a reaction he'd been expecting, counting on even, and wringing his hands so that the leather of the gloves gave off a faint squeak, "this vessel could revolutionize the world! The whole of the industry even. You have to understand I wouldn't offer this to just anyone. If it's a demonstration you want I have a working prototype I can . . ."

"No, no." the man waved his hand in dismissal. "I'm sorry, but I'm just not interested, not at this time. Come back after the world Government had bought this company, maybe they'll take you up on the offer."

"All . . . all right then." Law murmured managing to look disappointed, but smart enough not to press the point. "Um, here's my card, in case you change your mind, or know of someone else who would be interested." And Law slipped a business card onto the table baring the number for the little yellow baby den den that was currently stowed away in his jacket pocket. Nekonushi ignored it entirely as he pulled a file from a drawer and began to peruse its contents, scratching the cat's ears with one hand.

"Sir," Law paused as he packed away the blueprints before turning towards the door. "On my way here, there was a girl who said she was hoping to get and interview from you for her school paper, shall I tell her to schedule an appointment with your assistant?"

"You can tell her to get lost." The man muttered. "Good day, Clancy-san."

"Good Day." Law replied leaving the office closing the door softly behind him. It took a good deal of effort to keep the satisfaction he was feeling from showing on his face. An effort that was well worth it. As he let himself out for on his way down the main hall he was nearly run over by a slim dark-haired woman. He saw a brief flash of dark pink before they collided and though he managed to catch her before she fell, the stack of papers she'd been carrying scattered all over the floor.

"Oh dear!" she moaned bending down to pick them up, but Law was already there. In seconds he'd had the whole pile back in order, eyes scanning the contents to pick up that they were a list of purchasing reports, names of sub-companies, shares, and prices.

"I'm so sorry, Miss." He stated handing them back, "I've just left a meeting with Nekonushi-Sama, one that did not go well, and I'm afraid I was paying more attention to my own personal woes then where I was going. It is entirely my fault!"

"You had a meeting with Mr. Nekonushi?" she questioned looking surprised, "what about?" and then reading the hesitation in his face continued. "I'm Monique Jacqueline, vice president of this company. He doesn't see many people without my knowledge."

Law kept the disappointed and slightly startled look in his face with effort. He knew very well who she was. Coming into this meeting without knowing the principle players would not have been an intelligent thing to do. "I have these plans for a submarine. I really do have to make sure it sells to the right buyer. In the wrongs hands," he shook his head, "I thought Nekonushi-sama might be interested, but he wasn't. It seems I have very poor timing." Law sighed. "I left my card with him just in case but . . ." he shrugged and looked at his feet meaning to look defeated, and succeeding.

"Why don't you leave a card with me." The woman offered, "No grantees, but perhaps another one of our associates might be interested in such an acquisition." Law thanked her profusely, bowed over her hand in goodbye, and gave her his most winning smile as he left. He felt rather smug when he saw the reflection in the metal door to the stairwell, as he opened it, of Monique Jacqueline fixing her hair.

-:-:-:-

For Bepo a planned lunch with the rest of the crew and the Pencroff family was going to be a treat. He'd been left practically on his own since they had decided to bring down the President of HullDesign Inc. and the poor bear minkman was beginning to get a bit lonely. What was even better was that the man with all the tattoos, Verne, was hosting, which meant not only that he could eat as much as he wanted without worrying over depleting the food supplies, but that it would be good food too. Not that Shachi or Penguin were bad cooks, the men had decided to take the meals by turns with the Captain helping Shachi and Mouse learning from Penguin, but it was Shachi's turn and when he made lunch they usually ended up with cold cuts or salad or something because Shachi claimed those weren't things the Captain could mess up. Bepo was hoping Verne would prepare a large hunk of meat of some kind.

It was easy enough for Bepo to find the house on his own. Even if he hadn't remembered where it was his nose would have led him straight there. It wasn't BBQ this time, but a fish fry, and a fish fry was always best when the fish was freshly caught. Well fish in general was always best when it was freshly caught.

Tramping along in his new boots, which he was finally getting used to, having worn them every waking moment since their purchase, Bepo very quickly made his way to the front stoop and rang the bell. It was the little boy Will who answered, and for once a human seemed pleased to see him. Not that his nakama on the submarine weren't that way, but it seemed that most other humans were considerably more than startled. He was learning to recognize that scent. Shock. Not as sharp as fear, and not as hot as anger, but easily turned to either one.

"Hi, Bear-san!" the boy, Will, grinned cheerily at him. "Your captain's already here, he's checking on Papa." Bepo followed the boy around the corner into the great room they'd all been in yesterday to find his captain, back in his jeans and hoody, keeling on the floor next to a chair where the older man with the large mustache was seated.

"Arrhythmia. Tachycardia to be exact." Law muttered as he put his stethoscope back into his medical bag.

"Tell me something I don't know." The man muttered.

"Any pain, shortness of breath, dizziness?"

"No, no, just the racing pulse and a bit lightheaded, but even that's fading. Same thing it always is, the docs all say the only thing to do at this point is change my lifestyle and keep an eye on it. They say it's still early."

"Well without further study I'd have to concur with that opinion." Law sighed and stood, motioned Bepo to join him, and settled into a spare chair. "I'm guessing you have high blood pressure?" The man nodded. "And the stress of the company and buyout isn't helping. Anything else?"

"I gave up smoking a couple years ago, when this first started. But not before Verne picked up that little habit," the man winced. "I've cut back the drinking too." Law nodded and Bepo could smell his approval. Before he could say more the front door could be heard opening again as Mouse and Shachi arrived following Verne through the door. Not long after Penguin appeared carrying a midsize box that he said housed his new suit. He was trying to avoid changing as long as possible. A sentiment that Shachi echoed.

"She said to tell you that, except for the final fitting, yours is ready as well," Penguin quipped back. "You can go get it any time." The other man groaned. Bepo didn't understand why. It couldn't be much hotter than the boiler suit he wanted to wear.

"I just don't see the point." Shachi muttered, "Why are we spending so much money on buying suits to sell a part that we probably won't need to play ever again? Do you have any idea how much these things cost?" The last remark was directed at the captain and for Bepo, who had frequently heard Law complain about the cost of things himself, the answer was of high interest.

"I know exactly how much this cost us, but if we are going to do this," He started, "we are going to do this properly. And if we do this properly our payout will be far greater than what we spend."

"You're saying we'll earn it back?" Shachi muttered skeptically. It was the first time Bepo had ever heard anyone take that tone with the Captain. In fact he could smell Shachi's annoyance, and the same scent was beginning to come from Penguin. Though who Penguin's ire was directed towards, Bepo couldn't tell.

"I'll earn back every cent I spend."

"So?" Bepo cut in finally beginning to understand Law's perspective, "it's okay to spend money if you can make more?"

"What kind of question is that!" Shachi roared, "Of course it's okay to spend money if you can make more," and then, as if realizing he had said something wrong he glared at the minkman. "Wait a minute." He shifted the glare to Law who was smiling, "you put him up to that didn't you."

"I did no such thing." The captain smirked. Shachi's glare shifted back to Bepo who hung his head.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Shachi grumbled smelling angry and confused.

"Asking questions." Bepo replied honestly. Shachi's scent now seemed . . . frustrated? Perplexed?

"You're so pathetic." The man sighed in a manner that left Bepo wondering exactly what he could have done differently. Before he could apologies a third time Law intervened.

"I'm glad you agree about the money," he stated shifting the topic back to their earlier conversation, "because it may become necessary to spend more. I may have to dip into the ship's funds as well as my own.

Shachi snorted, "you know there's a problem with this and you want to spend more?" the man argued. "If you dip into the ship's funds how are we going to buy food? What about the repairs? More medical supplies? And emergency fund?"

"Shachi . . ." Penguin started, "if he says he can earn it back I don't see . . ." but Law had held up a hand for silence.

"Listen," he started calmly, "let me borrow it for a bit, and I'll pay you back and then some."

"You're offering interest?" Shachi clarified.

"Three-hundred percent."

Penguin whistled and Bepo's ears twitched at the high-pitched sound, but the minkman didn't say anything.

"Done," Shachi snapped, "But if you don't hold up your end . . ."

"Don't worry, I always keep my promises." The captain smirked. A moment later Lindy bounced into the room, camera in hand, to announce that the meal was ready if everyone wanted to head into the back yard. Seconds later they were digging into the food, well, all except Mouse and Lindy who seemed to be talking about her camera.

Unfortunately the drama wasn't done for the day. As the meal ended Penguin took the box with the suit in it into the house to change, and Phineas began probing Law on whether or not the list of names he'd given the man had been of any help.

"A great deal of help actually." Law answered, "if only we had some way to know who has already sold to Nekonushi, and who was planning too, but hasn't done so yet. We want him to think I'm going to the competition, not relax because I've approached what's already his."

"Pity, you can't just ask the man. He's probably got a record in his office."

"I can get it." Mouse jumped in with an offer. They all looked at him surprised. Only Bepo noticed Penguin returning in a deep gray almost black suit with a lighter gray vest beneath the jacket and a turquoise tie. Bepo wondered why the tie was so colorful when the rest of it was not. The man also was wearing a hat that matched. It was a strange hat; Bepo had once seen one in a picture book. It was the type that had been called cowboy. Whatever that meant. The hat made Penguin look nothing like a cow.

"No really I can." Mouse protested, as Penguin who had heard at least the last part of the conversation pointed out how dangerous it would be. "Just tell me where it is and what it looks like and I can go get it. You don't even have to worry about me getting caught because I'll hear the voices before they get too close."

"Don't be ridiculous, kid," Verne muttered fiddling with the edge of his bandanna, "how are you going to get into that office building in the first place? They're not going to just let you walk in."

Law smiled. "I may have a way."


	12. A Well Placed Pawn

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Once again a huge thank you everyone for the Favs, Follows, and reviews! You don't have to say anything at all, but just getting a follow alert is a huge encouragement for me to continue. ^_^

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

 **A Well Placed Pawn**

It seemed that with some people the name Vegapunk was a magic word, Penguin mused as he set in a conference room at Hull Design Inc.'s headquarters, the vice-president across from him and Mr. Nekonushi at the table's head. Even just the mention of that name was enough to guarantee their full attention. "Zharrah," Monique Jacqueline motioned to her personal assistant, "Please get Thomas-san a mug of coffee."

Thomas Allen, that was the name he had given them. That was the name that would be printed in their schedule books. Unlike Law, Penguin had actually made an appointment. Just dropping the name Vegapunk had guaranteed they made time.

Zharrah, a slim woman with tan skin, a bold nose and her dark hair in a braid smiled as she placed a steaming mug of coffee near his right hand. Penguin would have tipped his hat at her except he had already taken it off, so instead he smiled and said, "I thank ya kindly." It was all he could do to force himself back to the conversation and not watch her walk away. He rather enjoyed what the heeled boots she was wearing did to her stride.

"What I don't understand." Mr. Nekonushi grumbled from his end of the table as he lethargically stroked the ears of the white cat that had draped itself across his lap, "Is why Clancy-san didn't explain that it was a Vegapunk design in the first place."

Penguin smiled, this was the question he'd been waiting for. "As Ah understand it," he drawled pausing to take a sip of the coffee, "Mr. Vegapunk is an employee of the world gov-ah-ment. Strictly speakin' he isn't supposed ta be designin' things like this submarine in his free time at all. But because he designed it in his free time, the design is his an' he can do whatevah he wants with it including sellen' it off ta whoevah he wants. Howevah, it is still the wisest course of action ta keep such a sale under his hat, so ta speak."

"That would explain what he meant about finding the right buyer," the vice president murmured tucking her hair behind her ear and frowning at her personal assistant who had yet to refill her own coffee cup, "what it doesn't answer is why you're talking to us?"

"Well ya see, Miss, my boss wants those designs somethin' awful, but he's been too far away to make an offer to Mr. Clancy. Seein' as how ya'll aren't interested in buying the plans, and seein' as how after ya'll sell to the world Gov-ah-ment Mr. Clancy won't be sellin' ta them for obvious reasons, the boss man was hopin' ya'll might consider contactin' Mr. Clancy an' acting as a middle man as it were. He did after all come to ya'll first. Though as Ah hear it he did spend some time snoopin' around the island. We'd of course pay a finder's fee for any help ya'll might be willing to give. Ah reckon this way we all win. Mr. Clancy gets his sale, we get our blueprints, and ya'll make a profit without worryin' over how it might affect your future business plans."

Penguin watched as the two business tycoons shared a look. Mr. Nekonushi nodded and Ms. Monique smiled at him. "Well that is certainly a reasonable request. We can of course contact Clancy-san and see if he's interested. Is there some way we can reach you to make any further arrangements?"

"Of course, ma'am." Penguin smiled, "this here's my card. Just give me a ring when everythin' has been set up an' we can talk more details then."

"Thank you." She smiled and took the card. This time it was the green baby den den's number on it. They had made sure of that. Calling the wrong number and getting Law would have destroyed the entire plan. "Zharrah will show you out." Penguin shook her hand, shook Mr. Nekonushi's hand, avoided a swipe by the cat, collected his hat, and followed the young assistant out of the room.

Zharrah was a very personable young lady, and Penguin enjoyed the chatter as she walked him out of the building past the very annoyed looking male secretary, though she didn't really say anything very important. It was actually extremely easy to make one final request before he left. Of course it was always easier to ask for something when it was obvious the other person liked him, and to be honest Penguin felt a little guilty taking advantage of the fact, but the job had to be done. "Ah do appreciate the hospitality." He murmured shaking her hand goodbye and holding it a few seconds longer then strictly necessary, "But there is one more little favor Ah was hoping ya'll might be able to help me out with."

"Which is?" Zharrah replied beaming up at him in a way that might have enticed him to ask her to dinner had the woman not been a mark, and he unsure how his captain might react at such a development.

"Ya see, Ah met this little lady this morning on the docks, she was very helpful with directions as to where Ah might find ya'll, and when she learned where Ah was goin' Ah heard a very interesting story." Zharra tipped her head to the side in interest and Penguin continued. "She said she'd been trying to get an interview with someone at HullDesign for a while now. Something about a project for her school newspaper, but nobody around here had time to talk with her, what with readyin' everythin' for the sale an' all. Now this little lady was a mighty big help ta me, an Ah didn' reckon it could take more than five or ten minutes ta answer a few questions for her, so Ah may have promised ta put in a good word for the gal if everythin' went well."

Zharrah's eye widened and her mouth opened in a silent "oh" before she nodded and smiled with a chuckle. "I think I know just the girl you mean, she has been in several times recently, and you're right, with all the chaos around here I can easily see how she may have been put off." Zharrah shook her head in an apologetic manner. "I know for a fact that Monique-Sama has fifteen minutes free first thing tomorrow morning. I'll pencil her into the schedule . . ." she pulled a note pad out of her purse and waited patiently.

"Lindy." Penguin supplied, "Ah do believe her name was Lindy. An' she may have a classmate to help her, that Ah don' know."

"Well, you tell Miss. Lindy that she and her friend are to be at the front door at eight o'clock sharp, and someone will be here to show her up to Monique-sama's office for that interview."

"Ah really do appreciate it!" Penguin beamed, "it's not goin' ta cause a problem for the President is it?"

"Oh no." She laughed, "He's never in before ten anyway." He shook her hand one more time before walking away. After about a yard or two he turned back to find her still there, and tipped his hat politely. His effort was rewarded with a smile and a small wave. It was all he could do not to shake his head as he walked back to the ship. It was almost shameful how easy that had been. Not the woman, he would never think of a woman that way, but setting up the fall of the president of a very influential company.

-:-:-:-

A little before eight the next morning the entire crew plus Lindy was gathered in an alley diagonally off to one side of the HullDesign Headquarters. Standing with his back to his men watching the doorway of the building in question, Law was coming very close to hating himself for using the girl, but she had offered to help and been trying for weeks to get into the building in the first place. Not to mention that as hard as he tried he couldn't see any other path with as great a chance of making this work.

"Damn it." Shachi cursed behind him, one of the den den mushi in hand. "Why is this so hard? I know I've seen it done!" Law looked over his shoulder as Shachi ran a hand through his hair, knocking his hat off in the process, before hitting another combination on the little snail's attached keypad. Nothing.

"If we're going to keep doing things this way we might as well find a communications expert somewhere," Penguin sighed. "Here, let me have another go." And taking the Baby den den mushi he began to adjust the receiver as Shachi bent to pick up his hat. "Bepo, get your nose out of the way!" the man suddenly snapped. The following apology was immediate.

"How's it going?" Law asked looking back at their target already knowing the answer, but trying to press home the fact that they were almost out of time.

"Almost have it, Captain," Penguin stammered followed by, "Bepo!"

"He says it's the hold button." The bear murmured.

"What?" Penguin hissed.

"The snail, his name's . . . well you humans couldn't pronounce it. He says that to create a three way call, you dial the number, put that person on hold, dial the other number, and then take the first off hold. He says it's really easy . . ."

"And how exactly did you come up with that?" Shachi hissed.

"I can talk to animals… well some of them."

"Then, WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU SAY SO SOONER!" the man roared.

"Shachi-san we'll be heard!" Lindy hissed just as Bepo dropped his head.

"I'm sorry."

"Got it Captain!" Penguin exclaimed though his excited remark was whispered. "They're connected now, we'll be able to hear everything that goes on inside." And he handed Law the little yellow den den, gave Mouse the green one with instructions to keep it on mute in his pocket unless needed, and after fiddling with the volume on the third handed it to Lindy. "I've turned the volume down, on that one, but if you keep it near your ear you should still be able to hear what's going on without being too obvious about it. This way if we need more time . . ."

"I know, I know," the girl grinned taking the snail and hiding it under her jacket collar near her right ear, "I'll make up more questions or something. Come on, Mouse, or we'll be late." And she dragged the boy in question off towards the front of the building just as the Vice President's secretary, a woman Penguin had named as Zharrah stepped out the front doors.

"You think she'd let me take her out for lunch or something? I mean if she weren't a mark?" Penguin asked softly. It didn't take Law much to figure out what the man saw in the woman. Long legs, tight pants, healed boots, ready smile, even if she were as cold as ice most men Law knew would ask for a date just to watch her walk across a room.

"You're free to do whatever you want," he answered, "but remember that just because she's got a pretty face doesn't mean she's any less dangerous than the others."

"Please tell me you're talking about the assistant woman and not Lindy," Shachi cut in.

"What are you an idiot?" Penguin shot giving the man a sharp look. "Of course I'm talking about Zharrah!"

"Who's an assistant?" Bepo asked shuffling up behind the group and talking over Shachi's quarreling reply.

"Be quiet you three." Law snapped, "We need to hear what's going on." Even as Law spoke Lindy was making her approach, introducing herself, thanking the woman for her time, turning toward Mouse. Things would begin in three, two, one . . .

As anticipated Verne marched onto the scene before Lindy even had a chance to say anything about Mouse one way or another. Face livid. Ignoring his niece altogether he began hurling a stream of insults at the woman and the company she represented. Every remark seemed to be calling them corrupt, egotistical, uncaring of the little guy, or shady. He even went so far as to accuse them of attempting to have him murdered. Not really so far from the truth even if it was a bit of an exaggeration.

Without hesitation Zharrah herded the children inside, assuming Mouse was of the party, and called for security. The lean man Law had seen on his own visit to the building, the man with hair the color of the bill on Shachi's hat, was on the scene immediately. And so, surprisingly, was the male secretary from the front desk. His sandy hair bristling in the wind, the man made a point of putting away his horn rimmed glasses before taking hold of one of Verne's arms as his companion grabbed the other, frog marching him down the street towards the police station, Verne's bandana fluttering to the ground in the useless struggle that followed. If the Verne wasn't out in an hour or so, Law would send somebody with bail. But Verne had known jail time could be part of the deal when he agreed to the assignment.

It was fortunate that the secretary had come out to help. That meant that Mouse could slip away before Zharrah had any real chance of making note of him. Even as he thought of it the boy's voice could be head over the baby den den mushi. "I'm in. Managed to hide in the broom closet in the hallway after the main lobby. If everyone does what their voices say they will it'll be clear in a minute. Where am I going?"

"Fourth floor, right corner." Law supplied.

"Ok, I'll let you know when I get there." Mouse's end of the line went silent just as Lindy's voice came through quite clearly in response to a question by Zharrah.

"What boy? The one outside? He must have run off when the commotion was started. I think he was job hunting or something."

"Good girl." Law whispered, "Now find out what office they're taking you too."

True to her instructions Lindy began making observations as she was apparently led down the very same hallway as the closet in which Mouse had been hiding. Law knew a moment of panic as he realized there was a very real chance the boy was about to be caught, but then he heard the sound of a door closing even as another opened. Mouse had made the stairwell it seemed, before the other pair had entered the hall.

"Some of these paintings are magnificent." Lindy's voice seemed to echo in the change of her surroundings. "Do you get to look at anything this gorgeous where your desk is?"

Law could hear the amusement in the woman's soft chuckle as she answered. "As a matter of fact there is a De'Angelo right outside Monique-sama's office across from my desk. It's quite famous actually. Have you heard of St. George of the Rocks?"

"Oh wow!" Lindy whispered in awe that, as far as Law could tell by only the sound of her voice, was completely genuine, "it'd be worth asking for a tour just to look at that alone."

"Yes it would," Zharrah agreed. Now we're heading up to the fourth floor. If you don't mind I like to take the stairs, keeps me in shape..."

"No I don't mind," Lindy answered.

Just then Mouse's voice was back on the line. "I'm there."

"Ok, Mouse, you see the two filing cabinets against the one wall?" Law began.

"Yeah?" the kid's voice came through sounding somewhat uncertain.

"I want you to go through those and Nekonushi-ya's desk. Find anything that looks like a list of names with prices or payments next to it."

"What names?" Mouse questioned.

"The kid's got a point." Shachi added, "This is a company that does business with patrons all over North Blue. They're bound to be all sorts of lists like that."

Law agreed. "Look for a list that contains all of the following names." He told the boy, "There'll be more, but these'll be near the top. Glassknow, Hardison, Monroe, Inuzuka, O'Hara, Watson, Torres, and Abari. Once you find anything that looks right I want you to read off the names and numbers to me and I'll write them down."

"You don't want me to just take anything I find and sneak out?" Mouse asked sounding confused.

"No, we do that and they'll know someone's been in there. Just read off the names and put everything back as you found it."

"Ok." Mouse stated, and then, "How do you spell Inuzuka?" Law cursed, spun on the balls of his feet, and flung his hat to the ground. How had he missed this? He had just sent the only member of his crew who had trouble reading into an office full of paperwork in search of the right list of names.

"He could rearrange everything." Shachi offered," take anything that looks relevant and move the other files around. By the time they realize what was taken it'll be too late." Law waved that suggestion aside.

"They can't know we were there." He hissed. What did he do? Did he scrap it? Try to make do without.

"I'm sorry." Mouse's voice whispered.

"Not your fault, Kid, the oversight was mine." Law grumbled just as he caught something Lindy was saying to Zharrah.

"Wow this whole floor is filled with artwork too?"

"Lindy." Law all but shouted, "That camera you're always carrying around, do you have it today?"

"Mmmhmm." Lindy replied sounding as though she was answering something Zharrah was saying. "I really do think you must have the best job in the world surrounded by all this beauty.

"Ok, find a place to leave the camera and tell us where. Mouse, when the coast is clear, slip out grab the camera, and take pictures of everything you can. We'll sort through what's what later."

"Got it!" Mouse answered sounding happier.

"Oh wow is this a Chamaedorea Palm? You must have had a terrible time positioning it to get enough light from that window!" Lindy's voice chirped happily. Seconds later she whispered under her breath, "There's 36 on the roll in the camera and I left a spare roll in the case."

"Mouse you get that?" Law asked picking his hat out of the dust a brushing it off feeling extremely relieved. A potted palm near a window on the fourth floor should be easy enough to find.

"Yeah, and she showed me her camera at lunch the other day, how it works, how to change the film, everything. I can do that." There was a pause, the sound of Zharrah and Lindy entering Monique Jacqueline's office and Zharrah being sent for juice and a fresh mug of coffee, another pause and then the sound of the door as Mouse slipped out of Nekonushi's office, and his heavy breathing as he hurried down the hall as quietly as possible. A moment later there was some rustling and more heavy breathing as he hurried back. "We're good!" the kid stated the moment the sound of the door could be heard clicking shut.

"Well done." Law breathed a sigh of relief, "You've got 72 frames between the two rolls of film, take pictures of everything that even looks right."

-:-:-:-

Several hours later Shachi sighed with relief as he sorted through pictures. He'd never before realized how much a process developing them was, and as Lindy had her own dark room he got to learn first hand. Three chemical baths; a developer, a stop bath, and a fixer to set the film; then rinsed off and left to dry. The whole process was done over a sink using a little steal canister that let absolutely no light at the negatives which Lindy kept swirling constantly as Shachi kept an eye on the time for her. As she cut apart the negative and hung them up, Lindy freely admitted she wanted more time to let it dry properly, but as they were in a rush the moment she was satisfied it was enough she pulled them from the clothesline and moved everything back into the dark room so she could begin exposing the photos on to her special paper. Shachi hated that room; it was small and cramped with only a little red light to see by. Then there was the fact that the smell of the chemicals she was using was beginning to give him a headache. Bepo, with his enhanced sense of smell, would go nowhere near the place. Unfortunately, as the shipyards repair crew was currently doing an internal inspection of the Acanthuridae, and as he didn't care much for the crowded streets of the city. Shachi really had no place else to be.

He spent the majority of the time in the dark room watching as Lindy worked at the development table doing something she called burning and dodging. She claimed that as all of the images were of documents whatever it was she was doing would help make the details easier to see. Once she was done, the paper went into another bath developing the pictures, followed by another stop bath and then she let it sit in a long shallow tub of what she called fixer followed by another rinse under running water. She knew what she was doing. Shachi had to give the girl credit for it but for all that, the whole process was extremely time consuming. He'd been allowed to look at the prints when she'd hung them up to dry, but at the time in the darkroom with only the red light to read by it'd been extremely difficult to make out. Now at last he could hold them in his hands, see what he was looking at, and sort them into piles. The waiting done he could be productive. Productivity had never felt so good.

Law and Penguin were seated at the table doing the exact same thing. Shachi could feel his eyebrows rising at some of the things he found, he could see Penguin's expression darkening, and after some time Captain Law began to chuckle darkly. "It seems Nekonushi-ya really has been a bad boy."

Sometime after that Penguin held out a photo. "Hey, I think this one might be it."

Law took it and nodded in agreement, but before he could do anything more, the little baby den den mushi began to ring.

 _Bedep, bedep, bedep, bedep._ They all went silent watching it. They'd been waiting for this call, and truth be told they were all a little surprised it hadn't come sooner. _Bedep, bedep, bedep, bedep._ Law reached out a hand and lifted the receiver. "This is Clancy Marko," he answered in a board sort of voice.

"Clancy-san," a strong feminine tone echoed through, "Monique Jacqueline, we spoke the other day in the hallway after your meeting with Nekonushi-sama?"

"Oh, Monique-san!" Law answered sounding much happier. Shachi and Penguin shared a look. Shachi had seen Penguin perform his accent on more than one occasion, and he was good, but there was something different about Law. He was still Law, but he seemed softer, quieter, more polite somehow. Yet everyone in that room knew it was only an act, for someone who didn't know that . . .

"I am very glad to hear the sound of your voice, I was beginning to lose hope. Does this mean you know someone interested in my submarine plans?"

"Well, yes, that is exactly why we called." The woman stated getting right down to business, "It seems Nekonushi-sama has reconsidered. Is there any chance you're free to have a late lunch with him? Say two o'clock?"

-:-:-:-

Lunch with Nekonushi wasn't nearly the formal affair Law had been anticipating. The directions he was given led to a small outdoor café located in downtown Lothal. It was a nice establishment with a wrought iron fence around the perimeter, well cushioned wrought iron chairs, and glass topped tables. In a matter of seconds he was shown to a table where the man in question was waiting for him. Though the other man was dressed in a business suit as well, as Law looked around at the other patrons he felt decidedly over dressed.

"I hope you don't mind," the man muttered with a false smile motioning for Law to sit. Which he did removing his fedora and sliding the briefcase he'd been carrying under his chair, though he kept his gloves on. "But I've taken the liberty of ordering for us. One of our local delicacies in fact. You won't have had its like before."

"No of course not." Law answered back confidently. He was quite sure it would be fine too, that is until the bread arrived.

A steaming basket of what looked like herb crusted flat bread covered in a white linen cloth was set in the center of the table by a smiling waitress who proceeded to fill their water glasses. "You must try this, Clancy-san," Nekonushi grinned as he dipped his slice into a bit of balsamic vinegar and olive oil he had poured onto his appetizer plate, "the herbs, the wheat, everything used to make this is grown right here on the island."

Law disliked bread. Perhaps in was a textural thing, or the lack of nutritional value found in most kinds, he didn't know, he just knew he didn't like it. Be he could not afford to be Trafalgar Law at the moment. At the moment he was Clancy Marko. Clancy Marko had no opinion on bread. Clancy Marko was determined to make a good impression. Clancy Marko was a man desperate to make a deal. Clancy Marko could not afford to mess this up. So Law ate the bread, and he smiled while doing it, and he complemented its flavor, the herbs, and the wheat. Essentially, he lied through his teeth while looking the man straight in the eye.

A roast of lamb was brought next, and eventually, they got down to business. Between small talk and the meal Law was fed some story about the man being distracted and not really paying attention to the value of the merchandise Law had originally brought him. It was the vice president of the company who had done the research and drawn Nekonushi's attention to the subject. He was extremely embarrassed, and very apologetic about the matter. So much so that had the whole thing not been a set up, had Law not known the man was lying to him from the very beginning, he might have been willing to give Nekonushi some credit for being a businessman under a lot of stress. As that was not the case, Law felt no guilt whatsoever about taking the man for all he was worth.

Law didn't really start paying attention until they started talking numbers. Not that he was surprised by any of the numbers given, Law knew well what the submarine's blueprints were supposedly worth, but that the man's original offer came so close to the actual value, or the value prior to Shachi's modifications, implied that for all his shadiness Nekonushi did know what he was doing. More or less.

Had the man been truly intelligent he would have closed the deal on the spot. He did not. He grinned, arrogantly offered Law the chance to shop around, even gave him several names, and Law knew he'd been handed a golden opportunity. All of his plans could be pushed up without any added risk. If Law took the gesture at face value, if he was cautious when approaching the names the man had given, he could talk to various men on the island about the submarine and attempt to get a better price, which he knew he could not. What Nekonushi had apparently failed to realize was that Law now had formal permission to approach those very same men and say essentially whatever he wanted. What Nekonushi had failed to realize was the Law had always had plans to do just that and that he was good enough to do it without getting caught. Now there was no need to worry about concealing his actions. The young pirate had always found it was easier to move in the open whenever possible.

Either way they were to meet the following day at the main headquarters at noon where, if all went well, money would exchange hands. No matter how he looked at it this was exactly the sort of deal Law had been hoping for. He agreed after a moment's pretended hesitation, suffered through another quarter hour's worth of small talk, and offered his gratitude when the other man took care of the bill saying it was on the company, then shook Nekonushi's hand when he rose to leave. Oh yes, he smiled as he watched the businessman walk away flanked by his security detail, which included the man with the salmon colored hair, everything was going exactly as he planned.


	13. Snake and the Cactus: Things Go Wrong

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** As always thank you everyone for the Favs, Follows, and reviews!

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

 **The Snake and the Cactus: Things Go Wrong**

The news that the boiler suits were ready was more than enough to put Shachi in a good mood. More than that was the fact that Penguin had volunteered to retrieve them. There was a brief moment when Shachi thought it might be best if he did the job, after all Penguin had been posing as an assistant to an extremely wealthy buyer of sailing goods, and the sight of the man in jeans and a light sweater as opposed to a suit might be enough to send up red flags to any one observant enough to remember the man for more than his fancy clothes and accent, but fancy clothing and a good accent, in Shachi's experience, had been more than enough to disguise a man in the past, so he ignored the nagging feelings of doubt and let Penguin go. Besides, he mused, he had other, better things to do than entertain the proprietress of that shop while she rang up the purchases, and Penguin seemed to like interesting people.

By better things to do Shachi meant that he had convinced Phineas to show him HullDesign's dock and shipyards. All the rest of the inspections passed, the man wanted to put their sub into a dry-dock that day anyway which meant they really shouldn't be on board. What he really wanted to see though were the various types of rigging, and propulsions systems employed by the vessels on Lothal. If he had any interest in building them he should have been asking after schematics, but that would be taking advantage of the friendship, and all Shachi really needed was a look. He should be able to tell at a glance if any of them were worth enquiring about, and if nothing was there was no harm in a simple tour. Penguin, while interested, was still more than willing to pick up the suits, though Bepo insisted on coming along. "I want to see how it works from the human point of view." The bear had muttered when asked his reason, "Besides it gets boring on board alone." Shachi didn't argue. Mouse was off running around somewhere with Phineas' grandkids, Will and Lindy, and the Captain had put his suit back on to go "Shopping," which basically meant keeping up his cover, and hopefully meant earning back all the money they had spent. It was beginning to look as though Shachi had agreed to, and purchased, a custom suit for nothing. Not that he minded never having to wear the thing, but he didn't particularly appreciate spending his dwindling funds on something he was never going to use.

-:-:-:-

Law tugged on his gloves slightly to keep them from slipping and then checked the clock on the wall and nodded to himself. Any moment now. He was more or less here alone. He trusted his crew enough to entertain themselves in his absence without causing too much trouble, and he was confident enough in his own abilities that he had entered the main offices of HullDesign alone. True, he had Verne waiting outside to hand off the money to just in case, but even if the worst should happen he seriously doubted there would be anything he couldn't handle.

Law had double-checked the security cameras as he entered. Sure enough, two in the lobby and none elsewhere. He checked the personnel. Not quite everybody was there, including the male secretary at the front desk. Listening into to some of the staff's conversation he learned that the man in question had taken a sick day. The pink haired man was missing as well, and so was the dark haired assistant to the company vice-president, although it could be assumed that both were somewhere on the upper floors doing their jobs. There was no reason for them to be in the lobby anyway. Yet as he was shown into the main office Law had to admit to himself that it was extremely odd that he hadn't seen either one anywhere. Still, there were too many security personnel around that he could see, for him to worry about the ones he couldn't.

The exchange went well enough. Nekonushi gave him more than enough time to count the money as he looked over the blueprints, Law nearly smiled as he watched him. The man was concerned that Law might have tried to swap out the plans on him. He was so busy making sure that there were no discrepancies between what he had and what he believed he had originally seen, that he never saw the flaws that had been there from the beginning. Surly this was too easy.

Too easy, he thought as he walked out of the building sometime later. Everything was going according to plan, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had missed something. Not something he had seen, he was too observant for that, but something he had heard, perhaps. Something someone had said? Perhaps part of the reason for the prickling at the back of his neck was that he knew he was being followed as he walked down the street towards the docks, the heavy briefcase full of money carried in his right hand. Were these people really stupid enough to attempt to rob him? Of course they didn't know who he really was so that might account for some of the stupidity, but still . . .

Law adjusted the fedora he was wearing to sit lower down on his forehead as he passed a small flower stall off to the side. A block later he paused at a table selling wristwatches outside a clockmaker's shop on the corner of a cross street. He set the briefcase full of money on the pavement at the outer edge of the table and began examining the merchandise striking up a conversation with the clerk as he did so. From across the way, down the arm of the cross-street, came Verne. Broad brimmed hat over his usual striped bandana, long trench coat covering his casual wear, large brown briefcase of his own in one hand, he sauntered towards Law while looking as though he was in a rush to be somewhere entirely different. He passed Law, the large brown briefcase slipped over the money filled black one through a false bottom, and both came up so quickly that Law barely noticed, and he'd known what to expect. Smooth very smooth. For being so shy about his secondary life, Verne knew exactly what he was doing.

Knowing that Verne would ditch the coat and hat, and take the money back to Mouse on the sub for safekeeping, Law felt no concern whatsoever about lingering over the watches. Eventually he made a purchase, the clerk was more likely to remember his face if he didn't, and walked away, not bothering to hide his smile.

-:-:-:-

Penguin thought he was being followed when he left the seamstress's shop. By the time he reached the edge of the shopping district he was sure of it. The problem was that without being able to catch sight of his tail he had no idea who or why. So for the time being he was not going back to the sub. A quick assessment of his options lead him to choose joining Shachi and Bepo on their tour of the shipyards as his best bet. After all tailing three people could lead to a better chance of whoever it was getting caught, and if they did finally decide to show themselves the odds of the three of them taking him on were much better than if Penguin decided to do so himself. Besides, his shoulder was still healing.

It was easy enough to find the others once he made the shipyards. All he had to do was listen for Pops's booming laugh. Penguin cringed mentally as he realized he just mentally referred to Phineas, the man in charge of their repair work, as Pops. He'd been spending too much time with Verne. Penguin picked his way through the yard, passing tools and scaffolding, the beginnings of a hull for a new ship, stacks of wood, sheets of steel, storage containers, and workman going on about their jobs. He half wondered if he shouldn't find the sub in dry-dock. Surly the repair crew would let him on long enough to stow the large parcel of boiler suits he was carrying slung across his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught the reflection in a sheet of steel plate of a sandy haired man ducking out of sight behind a stack of barrels. Damn, so he hadn't managed to lose the guy in the yards like he had hoped.

Phineas laughed again his voice echoing somewhere off to Penguin's right and, shrugging his shoulders against the pack, Penguin headed off toward the sound.

He met up with the others shortly after. "Hey," Shachi hailed him as he rounded the corner of a shipping container, "what're you doing packing that stuff around? Why not take it back to the sub? They'll probably let you aboard if it's just to stow the gear."

"True, true," Phineas added in, "they give you any trouble just tell them I said so. Or better yet tell them Pops said so. Only one around here who calls me that is Verne, but my men have all learned not to question it the way they would the other. "

"Take a look at my shadow." Penguin muttered gesturing vaguely over his shoulder, "Daylight's wasting and I didn't want to miss out." He smiled as he walked towards them and leaned the pack full of boiler suits against a nearby sawhorse watching their expressions the entire time. Phineas frowned, but Shachi raised an eyebrow behind his sunglasses and nodded. He understood. Bepo unfortunately did not.

The bear tilted his head in curiosity and the sniffed hesitantly at the air, "why is your new friend so far behind you?" he asked in a confused voice, "He doesn't think I'll bite does he? I promise I won't bite," the bear minkman called.

Phineas chuckled, picked a screwdriver off a nearby work table, and sent it flying through the air. The tool clattered loudly against a nearby stack of pipes causing several to clatter to the ground, and from behind it staggered the man Penguin recognized as the male secretary from HullDesign's main offices.

"What are you doing here?" Phineas spat at the tall sandy haired man, "how'd you get past my security, Oushigi?"

"It's almost noon." The man, Oushigi, smirked spreading his hands and looking altogether like he had intended to be discovered, "your men are all starting their lunch break. It was easy enough to slip in as they slipped out. As for why I'm here? Well the boss ordered me to follow that one and see where he went." And the man pointed at Penguin.

"The boss?" Shachi said dryly.

"I'm right here," rumbled a deep voice, and from behind a stack of boards off to their left stepped a tall lean man with spiked, salmon pink hair, the same color as the bill of Shachi's hat. "I must say, for such a well put together and thorough crew I rather disappointed in you boys. I knew there was something suspicious about you all, but then I'm hired to be suspicious about everybody." He frowned at them as if he truly was disappointed. "I don't know what you're up to, but you might have succeeded, Thomas-san, if that man," here he pointed at Shachi, "hadn't been seen talking to you after you left our offices."

"And who are you?" Shachi muttered, "Someone I should care about?"

"I?" the man touched his chest and bowed still frowning, "You may call me Kakutamon." Shachi only crossed his arms. From his position by the table Pops, Phineas, was scowling. Bepo seemed to be trying not to snarl at the men for all of his promise not to bite. Penguin set his feet readying for anything, but all the man in front of them seemed to want to do was talk.

"You know I really shouldn't have thought much of it, Thomas-san. If that is your real name." Kakutamon muttered dryly as he cautiously took several steps to the side as if he was going to begin circling them, "Anyone can meet as stranger on the street after all, and for all I knew he was asking directions, but there's the little problem with the fact that your ginger haired companion seems to be such good friends with Verne. That implies that you also know Verne especially as Zharrah-san heard you mention that little chit Lindy, and if you're their allies then why were you trying to do business with us? Unless, it was some sort of scam. I don't like people who try to scam my employer. Now I really must call him." And beginning to walk away the man pulled a small purple baby den den mushi out of his breast pocket and motioning for someone else, who was also apparently hidden, to come forward.

There was the sound of a scuffling commotion followed by the appearance of a group of men in suits who appeared to be dragging somebody between them. Penguin felt his eyes widen as he recognized Verne. The man seemed perfectly fine despite his slightly disheveled state. Worse than that though was the fact that just behind them walked Zharrah, a long thin rapier strapped to her side. Penguin mentally cursed. He was ready for a fight, but he hated the idea of fighting someone he'd been trying to flirt with forty-eight hours earlier. She scowled at him.

The group of men who held Verne were roughly fifteen to twenty in number. Each one sporting a scowl, and each one looking incredibly well trained. Two of them pushed Verne roughly towards Shachi who they had evidently decided was the leader of the little group they mistakenly believed were nothing more than con artists. "We caught him walking from the main house toward that yellow submarine they've got in dry-dock." One growled as Oushigi brushed a sandy lock of hair from his forehead, readjusted his glasses, and watched Kakutamon report to whoever was on the other end of the den den. Neither one replied.

As he staggered to his feet Verne began to laugh roughly, "I could have evaded them if I'd wanted to. This time I actually saw them sneak up on me. But considering the circumstances I thought it might be better to be caught. Let them find you all for me. This way we're all together. Pops, if you don't mind, sit this one out." And Verne sprang into action; picking two roughly evenly sized pieces of pipe from the ground he lunged at his attackers, one spinning in each hand.

-:-:-:-

Law was still being followed. He had to laugh at the idiocy of the whole situation. They had to know by now that he no longer had the money. He hadn't bothered to hide the fact once he was sure Verne was safely away with the case. But they were still there, acting as if they were still going to need him for some part of their boss's plan. Well perhaps they were. Several more had shown up, all very cleverly hidden had Law not been one who had learned at a young age to keep an eye out for such things, and Law was beginning to get the distinctive impression that they intended to grab him. Perhaps he should let them. It might even make things easier. After all he was eventually going to have to return to Nekonushi and finish the job. Why not let himself be discovered as a con. It might make the whole thing that much more effective.

He weighed the pros and cons for a time as he pretended to window shop all the while watching them watching him. Finally deciding that the merits of both options were about the same and figuring it'd be just as easy to get things over with sooner rather than later, he turned down a side alley some ways past the end of Lothal's grocery district. The alley was much the same as the one Verne had been down when Penguin and Shachi saved him. High walls, out of the way, fairly long, both ends somewhat difficult to see down. Perfect, in short, for an ambush. If that was what his shadows had in mind. Law smiled as he entered walking its length at a leisurely pace.

The effect of his change of course on the tailing unit was immediate. They grew braver. He heard the sound of footsteps entering the alleyway behind him, and from their singular sound knew the others must be trying to circle around to get in front of him. Having no choice but to either run for the end, or turn and face whoever was behind him Law continued to pretend nothing was the matter strolling forward and remaining relaxed. It was right before he reached the far opening of the alleyway that they appeared. Two rough faced, broad shouldered men that he vaguely remembered seeing at some point outside HullDesign's main office building. Had one of them helped cart Verne off to jail? Not that it really mattered. Not now anyway.

One of the men leapt for him and Law took an instinctive step back arms coming up to defend his front. Yet even as he moved hands grabbed him from behind and a white cloth was pressed over his face as a large beefy elbow swept around his neck pulling him tight against his assailant's chest. At the same time the other two seized his arms keeping him from using any sort of trickery to get out of the hold. Law held his breath trying to break free. He knew what was happening. A more rational part of his mind told him he had foreseen the attack, expected it, invited it even. Yet another part of his brain, the part wired for survival, screamed that he had been an utter fool and he needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. He didn't even try to calm himself. Struggling would only make these goons believe the lie. Besides, with the two men maintaining control of his hands, even had he wanted to escape he could not.

They were smart these men. Restraining him physically even as they applied their drugged cloth. The more he struggled the more he needed to breathe. And either he would stop struggling enough to succumb to the chokehold or necessity would win out and he would inhale. Either way he was theirs. At least this meant they hadn't underestimated him. When he was tired of playing the game, when he believed they were convinced he was weakening, Law suppressed a smile and took a breath. The vapors filled his airways, his body protested telling him there was something wrong with the air, but because he'd been holding his breath so long his next breath was almost involuntary, and the one after that, and the one after that. He still struggled, but he no longer held his breath. He could almost feel the fumes entering his lungs and after a minute or two his brain began to fuzz. Law slumped forward and his captors let him, still keeping the white cloth firmly against his nose and mouth. Law's last conscious thought was that he really wished they'd managed to find some sort of anesthetic besides . . .

-:-:-:-

Shachi could only stare as chaos erupted around him. Verne leapt into the fray, pipes spinning taking out two of Kakutamon's men almost simultaneously before they could even grasp what was happening. That was it though. The moment they knew what was going on the group spread out, some maintaining their focus on Verne and some shifting their attention to the rest of the group. Phineas picked up a handful of nails from the worktable and began throwing them expertly like darts. Very few actually hit, their targets were moving after all, but those that did caused enough damage that it was easy to see why the man had resorted to nails as weapons. Bepo growled and easily swatted away any man that came at him, but soon enough Shachi was dealing with his own problems. Several rushed him and he spun from hold, to arm bar, to throw throwing his opponents into each other's way.

Shachi rolled his eyes as he stepped away watching as the idiots detangled themselves. They weren't half so good as they looked. Off to one side he could see Penguin facing down the pink haired fellow even as that dark haired woman the man seemed to be soft on threw herself into the mix.

"Hands off, Kakutamon!" Zharrah shouted rushing forward, dodging past Verne's pipes and leaping over the group of men Shachi had just left on the ground, "he's mine."

The salmon colored haired man sighed. "I really don't see why you have to take this so personally. It's not as if he asked for your number or anything."

"You know," Penguin intervened in a tone of voice that implied to Shachi that the idiot was about to try reasoning with a woman who seemed intent on killing him, "it wasn't my intention to scam you." Zharrah's eyes widened in surprise and it took Shachi a moment to realize why. She'd never heard Penguin speak without that stupid accent, and she called him on it.

"So even your accent was a lie?"

Penguin smiled half heartedly, "Well, yeah . . . but if your colleague hadn't spotted me talking to Shachi you'd never have known anyway so . . ." with a wordless yell she drew her blade and lunged at him forcing Penguin to jump back before the rapier's tip could impale his stomach. "Whoa!" he stammered hands in the air as if gesturing for a truce. "Careful now, you could put someone's eye out with that thing!"

"That," she snapped, "is the point!"

Shachi unfortunately had other things to worry about then a crazy lady with a sword trying to kill Penguin. Kakutamon had apparently decided that if he couldn't fight Penguin he was going to fight him. Shachi was force to doge back before a fist could connect with his face. There was something strange about that fist. As he collapsed into a back-roll and sprang to his feet safely out of range he tried to get a closer look at it. It was then he realized that it was not just his opponent's fist that looked odd, but his entire body.

Kakutamon's pink hair made him an oddity to begin with, but the sight of thousands of tiny spikes sticking out of the man's skin and clothing was more than enough to send a chill down his spine. "You've got Devil Fruit powers." he snapped stating the obvious, and for the first time since they met the other man smiled.

"Indeed. I ate the cacti cacti fruit. My body can take on any of the attributes of a cactus I choose from its green color," he grinned and Shachi noticed that the areas with longer needles were in fact turning green, "to its spines," and here the man held up the spine-covered fist he'd aimed at Shachi's face. "And more than that," the smile had been replaced by a frown again, "unlike the actual plants, I can shoot my needles at an intended target!" and he flicked his wrist almost as if he were throwing a ball sending several large spine from his fingertips causing Shachi to dance back several paces as they hit the dirt near his feet.

One struck home though, but feeling no pain, Shachi bent down to retrieve the needle from the leg of his pants. He was surprised to find it hadn't even struck through the cloth. "And I thought these things were supposed to be dangerous." He stated dryly straightening up, the spine held between two fingers. "Let me know when you decide you're going to be serious." A moment later he was forced to duck under a spinning round kick Kakutamon was aiming for his head and he realized the real disadvantage to facing an opponent covered in spines. The man's offensive abilities were middling at best, but his defense was quite good. Then there was the fact that most of Shachi's favorite moves required him to actually be able to touch the other man. He sighed and dodged again as the man leapt into the air this time flipping and intending to come down on Shachi's shoulder with his heal.

"Spinning Spine Kick!" Kakutamon roared even as Shachi sidestepped. Rolling his eyes Shachi spun through tencon, intending to ignore any damage the cactus needles might cause, and put the man into an arm bar, but Kakutamon had dropped his chin, curled into a ball, and somehow used the spines protruding from his back to roll away before uncurling and bouncing to his feet spinning in a full circle as he landed and using the momentum to shoot several spines from his heel in Shachi's direction.

Shachi frowned as the spines came up short, thinking only that the man vaguely resembled a ballerina spinning on top of a music box. "Wait a minute," He muttered piecing together the pink hair with the ballet style moves, "you're not using Okema kempo are you? I mean I've heard of it but I didn't expect it to be so . . . useless." Truth be told Shachi has always heard Okema Kempo was highly formable and to avoid even a student of the art.

"How dare you!" Kakutamon practically screamed, "I am a highly trained combatant. To compare my skilled and precise abilities to that rubbish! I'll show you!" and the man rush forward leapt up onto the worktable and from there onto a pile of boards which he then jumped from putting himself high above the entire battlefield rolling his body into a forward spin as he fell. "Rotating Spine Bullets!" immediately needles began to shoot out from every surface of Kakutamon's body showering friend and foe alike with hundreds upon thousands of tiny spikes.

Shachi threw his arms up to shield his face lowering them only when he heard the slightly staggered footsteps of the man landing in the dirt. "You're not a combatant. You're a hyperactive, obnoxious pincushion!" he shouted taking advantage of the fact Kakutamon was still off balance and rushing into throw a right hook at the man's face.

-:-:-:-

Bepo's experience was turning out to be entirely different. No sooner had Verne rushed in with the pipes to take out the group of strange, angry smelling men, no sooner had Pops (Pops was easier for Bepo to say than Phineas) started throwing nails, and no sooner had the cactus guy faced off against Shachi then the blond man named Oushigi turned to face Bepo. Bepo thought it was rather brave of the man to want to fight him considering that he had just tossed several other men aside like rag dolls. He told Oushigi as much, but the male didn't reply, only took off the horn-rimmed glasses and stowed them carefully away in a case in his pocket.

Bepo waited on him, trying to figure out why this guy seemed so confident when facing down a full-grown bear-minkman, and then Oushigi began to change and Bepo knew. His body elongated, his legs merging into a single tail; his neck grew wider along with his head, which gained a distinctively triangular shape; his skin covered over with golden scales with some darker brown blotches. As Bepo realized what was happening he expected the man to shrink in the full form of a snake, but Oushigi did not. Instead he grew larger, shoulders and chest expanding, arms remaining when Bepo thought they too would disappear, the lower portion of his face remaining decidedly human. He was now roughly the size of Bepo himself, perhaps larger. All right so part human part snake? Was this a devil fruit like Law's? But Law didn't turn into an animal . . . oh well. Bepo had known lots of snakes and snake-minks in his life. When they got annoying, as all snakes seemed to eventually do, dealing with them was easy enough; you just had to threaten to stamp on their head . . . but would it work with one so large?

Oushigi was making a strange sort of hissing sound. It took Bepo a moment to realize he was laughing the sound mangled by the man's forked tongue. "No man is a strong enough opponent for me!"

"But," Bepo tilted his head in confusion, "I'm a minkman." The only reply to the comment was Oushigi looping a coil around him and drawing the bear closer, tightening his grip as he did so. Bepo looked up at the serpentine face and sighed. Had he been human like Law, Bepo might have been in trouble, but Bepo was a minkman, and being a bear-minkman gave him certain advantage in this situation. For one thing though he stood on his hind legs as a human his skeletal structure was comparatively stockier, his muscle mass was bulkier, and he was in fact built to muscle through things on pure strength. Then there was his fur. Designed for repelling water and keeping out the cold, his coat slid smoothly along the snake scales. Those two together made it relatively easy for Bepo to crouch down within the coil slide the whole thing over his head, and then use his ursine strength to toss said coil back in it's owner's face. "I'm a bear-minkman." He repeated almost apologetically. "That won't work."

Oushigi recovered quickly and hissed in annoyance but Bepo was already moving. Kick, right, left, right, jump away, dodge right to avoid another coil, leap in again and strike with the left paw. Oushigi batted him away like an annoying fly and Bepo skidded backward as he landed placing his right front paw on the ground for added balance as he slid through the dirt. "You are a fool, there is no man who can match my strength!" Oushigi boasted using his tail in an attempt to slam Bepo across the yard into a pile of sheet metal that he easily dodged.

"But I'm a bear-mink." He really didn't see what it was about that concept that was so difficult to grasp. His crewmates got it. True they were annoyed when he ate most of the meat at meal times, or shed his fur everywhere, but none of them tried to claim he was something he was not. Sometimes they even seemed proud of it.

"I'M A BEAR-MINKMAN!" Bepo roared leaping at the man again using the snake's own coils as a stepladder of sorts to get at the man's head. If he could just get a hold of the head . . . but this time the fur that had so easily allowed him to escape Oushigi's coils earlier worked against him. His smooth coat slid across the scales of the man's neck and shoulders causing Bepo to overshoot and crash to the ground on the other side. Just then the man Shachi was fighting leapt into the air and began shooting needles everywhere. Bepo stayed where he was only bothering to cover his nose. He had seen those spines stick to Shachi and knew that as annoying as the concept of flying cactus needles might be they were mostly harmless, however he did not relish the idea of getting hit in the nose by such a thing. His nose was rather sensitive.

Once the barrage halted Bepo climbed to his feet, brushing uselessly at his fur, the motion only succeeding in tangling the needles that had hit him further. A glance as Oushigi showed that the snake man had been more fortunate. The needles had simply glanced off his scales causing no harm whatsoever. Unfortunately for Bepo, while he had been covering his nose, his opponent had been given time to gather himself for an attack. Gathering his coils in around himself the snake man reared up and then lashed out. "Serpent Strike!" again, and again, and again he snapped forward planting a fist in the ground where Bepo had been standing seconds before, forcing the bear to leap backwards out of the way. Now it was starting to be dangerous. Yet even as he danced out of Oushigi's range Bepo realized something. The man could only strike as far as he could rear up. True the tighter the coils the longer the reach, but then the further the need to hit the longer it took for him to get there.

"Have I not warned you how fearsome an opponent I can be?" Oushigi laughed and stopped seeming only to catch his breath. "You're a foolish man to be my opponent."

Bepo was panting as well but he managed an answer, "I've already told you, I'm a bear-mink, and all you do is talk. There's no bite to your words."

"So you want to see my bite?" Oushigi laughed, "Prepare yourself! For my bite is poisonous!"

Bepo narrowed his eyes and took a close look at the snake man's mouth, "No it's not." He answered recognizing the telltale absence of extra-long fangs.

"And how would you know that, silly man, if you have yet to see my bite?" came the retort.

Was it really appropriate to call the man out on his lie? Bepo didn't know. He just knew what he knew, his instincts were extraordinarily accurate after all and no fangs meant no poison. "Your teeth are all wrong," he pointed out, "and I told you, I'm a bear-mink, not a man."

"Well perhaps you'd like to find out exactly how powerful my bite is then!" Oushigi roared and lunged for Bepo, but Bepo had already learned that the distance of such a strike was always predetermined by the length, type, and size of the snake's coil, and so jumping out of reach was easy enough.

What he had forgotten, however, was that a snake's entire body did not have to be a part of that coil and in his preoccupation with Oushigi's mouth he had forgotten about the tail. Mid leap he was slammed aside by the appendage and sent flying into a large stack of boards, which clattered down around him as he landed. Just great, Bepo thought to himself as he fought his way from the pile. He knew he should have been more polite to the snakes he had met before. But who would have thought that it would come back to bite him, literally. He was going to have to do something about that tale or he'd never get another strike at the head. A slight rustling sound caused him to look off to his right as he stood and Bepo frowned in thought. There moving in the debris it had just knocked him into, was Oushigi's tale.

It was right there, so Bepo did the first thing that came into his mind, grabbed the tail, and bit down hard. The resulting scream was enough to send reverberations throughout all the piles of various materials scattered around them.

"Aaaarrrrrgggggg! You said you wouldn't bite!" Oushigi snarled turning his serpentine head to glare at the minkman and ripping his tail free in a jerk the set Bepo's ears ringing, the recoil almost sending the tail flying into the woman who was slashing at Penguin.

"Well," Bepo reasoned shaking his head to clear his ears, "You did try to bite me first."

"What kind of man is so absurd as to bite another's tail!" Oushigi hissed.

"I'm a bear-minkman." Bepo pointed out for the umpteenth time. "Your human rules don't apply to me."

-:-:-:-

Penguin sighed as he danced back from Zharrah's blade. Things were different now then they had been at the beginning of the fight. He had long since picked up a fallen length of pipe and begun using it to parry and block her strikes. Fortunately for him the use of various swords and styles had been a part of basic marine training. Still, he wished he could finish this his own way. Come to think of it he hadn't been able to fight properly since Captain Bligh had half strangled him. His breathing was back to normal, but his shoulder still twinged on occasion so the use of any of his usual moves was probably ill advised. Had that not been the case Penguin could think of half a dozen ways he could have ended this by now. Perhaps it was fortunate for Zharrah that wasn't the case. Though it seemed as if her own comrades were trying to kill her. "What are you a moron?" she had yelled at Kakutamon as he had nearly impaled them both with a spray of needles, was followed shortly by, "Idiotic bull snake," as Bepo's opponent's tail nearly side swiped them both.

Penguin was learning very quickly, as he dodged and parried her strokes, that he had been greatly mistaken in his original estimation of her character. The woman, while beautiful, was sharp tongued and slow of wit, her remarks were cruel, rude, and uncaring, but they were in no way original, and so rather then dignify her endless stream of name calling with a response, he resolved to fight in silence. In fact the whole situation seemed something like a bad break up scene one might find in one of those cheesy romance novels petty officer Rodgers had used to read. But, he supposed as she attempted to take off his head, as least he was finding out now instead of after he had wasted money taking her out to dinner.

Another lunge at his abdomen forced Penguin into a back roll and he brought his piece of pipe up just in time to block an overhead strike that was actually an incredibly stupid move to pull with a rapier, because as he blocked Penguin was able to step forward throwing his shoulder into the woman's stomach sending her staggering back several paces giving Penguin enough time to get a general look of the status of the dock yards. They were a mess. Piles had collapsed, materials were broken, tools were scattered everywhere. Bepo and Shachi were still fighting their own fights, but Penguin noted that all of the goons belonging to HullDesign were either unconscious or gone, and that both Verne and his father were sitting casually on the wreckage of a wooden crate watching the whole thing.

Penguin felt a spike of appreciation when he realized they were sitting out the rest of the fight because they trusted the Heart Pirates to take care of it, just as he trusted Shachi and Bepo to finish their own fights as he finished his. Though those two did seem to be getting in each other's way quite a bit. As he parried another blow from Zharrah, Penguin noticed Shachi jump behind Bepo to avoid another barrage of flying needles.

"Hey, I don't like getting shot with those things either," Bepo whined loudly enough to be heard as he pulled several spines from the tip of his nose.

"But you're protected by your fur," Shachi argued.

Bepo's rather depressed retort of, "They'll take forever to comb out," echoed around the yard as the snake man's tail came crashing down between the two forcing them apart.

"Pay attention to your own fight!" Zharrah roared swinging wildly at him.

Penguin sidestepped easily. "This is hardly a fight," he sighed, "if it were you would have forced me to attack by now."

"And here I thought you were just a coward." She snarled. "Nothing more than a con man who hides behind a fancy suit and a false accent."

"There you have it wrong." Penguin muttered dancing back again, ducking her next wild slash and coming up to catch her wrist in his open palm. "I'm a pirate."


	14. Check and Mate: The Match is Won

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen**

 **Check and Mate: The Match is Won**

When Law woke, his head was pounding. Not just the dull throb of little sleep and overwork, but the unceasing sharp stabs through both temples and all his sinuses cavities that came as a side effect of the involuntary drugged sleep he had been subjected too. The pain was so intense that he almost didn't even want to open his eyes, but he knew that was a necessity. Whatever was happening he was going to have to work through his own extreme discomfort and continue with his plans. Besides the sooner he finished things here the sooner he could return to the submarine, treat himself properly, and go to bed.

It was the sound of voices that convinced him it was worth admitting he was awake, but when he opened his eyes the blinding light along with the sounds that rattled his head were enough to make him feel nauseous. He forced his face to remain blank. There was no point to admitting that they had gotten to him, no point in admitting that he had miscalculated when he had decided to let himself be captured. No point in admitting that had they administered any more of the drug then they had, he might not be waking up at all. There were men Law had met that were eerily like himself, same thought processes and everything, men who would claim they believed in planning and the proper manipulation of circumstances, that there was no such thing as luck. But Law had learned the opposite in his twenty four years of life. Now, like in past events, there was no doubt in his mind that he was incredibly lucky. He was, however, going to have to learn to read situations better if he had any hope of never allowing this to happen again.

"So, you are awake, Clancy-san." Stated a highly amused voice that went straight through Law's head. "I was beginning to think my men had over done it." Law looked up straight into Nekonushi's piercing eyes and smiled. The man in question jerked back in surprise giving Law a chance to get a grasp of his surroundings.

He was tied to a wooden ladder backed chair seated in the center of what appeared to be a large warehouse. Some feet in front of him was a sturdy scrubbed wooden table upon which Monique Jacqueline was seated, legs crossed and kicking the top foot in irritation. Nekonushi had backed up to lean against the same table and crossed his arms. Surrounding all three of them was a large group of men in black suits. More of the security personnel like the man who had grabbed and drugged him. But none of that was what caught Law's eyes.

The warehouse itself was full of crates containing various supplies each stamped quite boldly with the logo of Pencroff and Sons'. "Ah I've seen you've noticed, Clancy-san." Nekonushi smiled. "Yes, I've taken you to his warehouse. Though technically an ally the man has been a thorn in my side for quite some time and should anything untoward happen, well, we both know who would take the blame."

Law continued smiling. "Untie me, Nekonushi-ya, and perhaps we can talk about what it is I seem to have done to upset you."

Nekonushi frowned at Law's sudden lack of manners, but snapped his fingers and second later a guard was loosening his bonds. The moment he was free Law smirked and leaned forward resting his arms across his knees and ignoring the protesting pain from his head that made the whole world momentarily spin. "I take it the reason you've brought me here like this is because you've finally taken the time necessary to discover that the plans I sold you were flawed?" Law watched with satisfaction as the blood drained from Nekonushi's face and Monique Jacqueline sat up with a start.

"The reason you're here," Nekonushi said licking his lips, "Is because my men were supposed to bring my money back to me and when they finally caught up to you, you no longer had it."

Law chuckled lightly ignoring the pained protest from his head, "Well, you have been a naughty, naughty boy haven't you, Nekonushi-ya?"

"And what, precisely, might you mean by that?" Nekonushi sneered. Behind him Law heard one of the guards crack his knuckles.

Law only laughed and shook his head though he instantly regretted doing so. "You know it puzzled me." He started deciding to have it all out here and now, ignoring Nekonushi's frown, "Why a company with whole halls filled with priceless artwork would have only two security den den mushi. Most people would just assume the rest were hidden, but I, I have been trained to see them. So why would a wealthy businessman such as yourself be so willing to needlessly invite thievery unless you were hiding something else. And surely you wouldn't be so incompetent as to not hire proper security personnel." It was almost funny how much their facial expressions told him. Nekonushi had gone white as a sheet while Monique Jacqueline's posture had suddenly become completely rigid. Oh yes, he had hit the nail on the head.

"Yet, there were only two guards when I visited," Law continued. "Two for the entire building full of priceless artwork. There was something I wasn't seeing. Your own staff solved it for me when Verne decided he was going to cause that little disturbance outside your front doors. The main secretary of yours stepped out to help contain the situation. He shouldn't have done that. You see the moment he did I knew that your offices were in fact crawling with security. Not in den den mushi or alarms or any form of surveillance that could catch whatever it was you were doing, but in personnel. Well-trained staff, people whose loyalty could be bought if the price was high enough. You see Nekonushi-ya, video footage cannot be faked, it cannot lie. People on the other hand, can."

Nekonushi's hands were shaking now. A casual glance at the security guards showed that they were holding their position even if they were shooting uncertain glances at one another. "It was then that I realized what you were doing. Why everything was on paper so easily disposed of, why there was minimal surveillance, why your staff was so well paid and so highly trained. What in short, it is that you're actually doing. You're embezzling Nekonushi-ya. You're laundering money; you're selling goods on the black market, information as well. All of that and more." Law folded his hands tapping his index fingers together in a gesture that implied he knew even more. "More importantly you're doing it all on your own. Why else would you be so secretive about it? If you were working for Doflamingo or another like him it wouldn't matter if the World Government found out, it'd all be good. He is after all one of their own." Law smirked.

"Prove it!" Nekonushi spat his face red now with rage.

"Gladly." And out of a hidden pocket on the inside of his suit jacket Law pulled a handful of photographs.

-:-:-:-

Shachi jumped into a forward roll as the snake man's tail crashed down onto the ground he'd been standing on moments earlier. Behind him Bepo leapt to the side. Both were required to dodge a stream of cactus spines as they came to their feet. It seemed that the concept of individual combat had been abandoned as Kakutamon and Oushigi decided to work together to beat down both Bepo and himself. Well, Shachi mused, two could play at that game. But before he could get near enough to the bear to work out a strategy Kakutamon launched himself across the ground, curling into a ball, spines growing out of every available surface yelling the words "cactus spine boulder!"

Shachi dodged, not because he was afraid of getting hurt if he got hit, but because he simply couldn't see an easy way to grab and suppress the man when he was curled up like that. Ideally he'd like to dunk both opponents into a pool of water and leave them paralyzed, but there was no way to get near enough to the edge of the docks to make that a viable possibility, and there was no sea-stone nearby that he knew of. That meant the availability of decent options for victory were limited. Still, there was always the chance that if he kept dodging long enough they would wear their opponents down enough for them to do something stupid. Either that or he could attempt to make them mad. Shachi suddenly grinned, now there was an idea.

Across the way Shachi could see Bepo dancing around Oushigi's form in an attempt to get at the snake man's head. It was a good idea, except that the ice-bear's nine foot tall bulk was simply too large to make it through the few opening his opponent left open. Well, perhaps Shachi could take care of two birds with one stone.

"Hey, Okema," Shachi shouted at Kakutamon, "what do you say we call this a draw. You obviously lack the ability to make this interesting and I'm getting a little tired of wasting my time!" The reaction was immediate. With a roar of rage Kakutamon uncurled from his ball thrust his hands out in front of him and began shooting a spray of needles from his palms.

They probably would have hit him had he not already been moving. Running towards Bepo Shachi leapt over Oushigi's tail and dropped to a crouch behind as the telling sound of the spines hit Kakutamon's partner instead of him. Oushigi reacted just enough to spare Shachi an annoyed glance, his scales having deflected the needles leaving him without so much as a scratch. There was a brief moment when Shachi believed he could see a flower starting to form on the side of Kakutamon's head, but there was no time to be sure and seconds later he was dodging a strike in attempt to avoid Oushigi's fangs. Those teeth were sharp, and far more dangerous than Kakutamon's needles.

Yet as Shachi jumped and rolled out of the way Bepo was moving in, both paws raised overhead obviously planning on bringing them down in a fist on top of Oushigi's head. Before the bear could complete the blow Oushigi's nose shot forward and back, not trying to bite, but striking with the blunt tip of his closed mouth in true nature of his actual form, the bull snake. The blow struck Bepo's abdomen as the bear sailed through the air, sending him tumbling head over heads into the steal side of a nearby storage container leaving a sizable dent.

Shachi didn't dare spend the time to find out if Bepo was ok. Instead his attention was focused on Kakutamon. There was a blossom forming on the side of his head. The man's face was red with rage and the flower was growing with each angry breath he took. The spines around that flower were growing longer and sharper as well. Unlike the previous needles the man had been shooting these might actually be capable of doing more than just sticking to everything. Kakutamon turned sideways and Shachi began to run.

"Blooming Needle Beam of Rage!" Kakutamon roared, and this time, even the scale armored Oushigi got out of the way.

Shachi made it to Bepo's side just in time. Grabbing the bear-mink's paw just as he made it shakily to his feet, Shachi launched himself around the near side of the storage container and pulled them both behind. The pinging sound of the needles hitting the first wall and tearing through to hit the wall behind their heads was a bit nerve rattling, but Shachi forced himself to remain calm. He'd already seen the solution to their pest problem, he just needed the bear-mink to agree.

"That was dangerous!" The minkman moaned.

"Bepo," Shachi panted struggling to catch his breath, "Is it alright with you if we switch opponents?"

-:-:-:-

The photos Law pulled out of his pocket were of course the very same pictures that Mouse had snapped when he had snuck into Nekonushi's office. The very same pictures they had sat around Phineas's dining room table sorting. Fortunately for the Heart Pirates those photos had been full of little tidbits that could help them in their goal, Shipping schedules of black market goods for example, locations and times for payoffs, the sailing patterns of marine ships they wished to avoid, a separate ledger containing numbers which did not match the numbers of the company's supposed profit. Law had taken the opportunity to clip those last photos together so they could be compared side by side. Now he handed them over without a qualm. "Please don't be stupid enough to think these are the only copies." He smirked as the man in question took them. Somewhere behind him one of the guards dropped something that echoed with a loud metal ping and Law forced himself not to wince as the sound went straight through his head.

"I don't understand how are these supposed to . . ."

"Try actually reading what's on them, Nekonushi-ya," Law scoffed.

By this time Monique Jacqueline had slid off the table and approached her boss to look at the photographs over his shoulder. "What? These were taken in your office," she gasped. "How? The Lindy girl!" her eyes suddenly widened in horror, "she didn't have her camera during our meeting! That boy must have gotten inside after all!"

"I don't understand!" Nekonushi muttered again, "I thought you were selling us faulty submarine documents."

Law smiled, "that was only half of it."

 _Four Days Earlier . . ._

"The bear's right," Verne said, "What are we going to sell him? And more importantly how is a fiddle game going to save HullDesign from a world government buyout?"

"It's not," Law answered leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, "at least not by itself. My status as a non-local of this island is going to allow me to do the one thing nobody else here can. I'm going to buy Nekonushi-ya's share of the company right out from under him. However, to do so successfully he can't see what's happening until the very last instant."

"The fiddle game's a distraction tactic," Shachi pointed out bluntly stating the obvious, "because if we're trying to sell something we should be able to talk with nearly any ship builder on the island and only look as though we're seeking the right buyer."

"When we're actually convincing those most likely to help Nekonushi'ya to sell us their shares." Law's grin in that moment had been one of a man who had just found a promising challenge.

 _. . . Present_

"You might want to take a good look at the photos on the bottom of that pile," he smirked gesturing vaguely. "I think you might find those of the greatest interest."

Frowning at him Monique Jacqueline took the photos from an increasingly worried looking Nekonushi, pulled the pictures in question, and nearly dropped the whole stack when she saw what they contained. "What are these?" She demanded.

"Those?" Law's smile widened, "those are photos of the documents recording the sale of certain shares of your company . . . to me." It really had been good thinking to have Lindy take and develop pictures of those transaction receipts once they'd been completed. As for keeping them in his pocket at all times since, well it paid to be prepared. "You'll recognize the names of course, all those who were going to sell to you. They were a bit hesitant about speaking to me that first day, but once they saw you greeting me outside your office, not to mention taking me to lunch . . . it was a simple thing to convince them that you had hired me to handle those transactions. Of course, you thought I'd approached them about the blueprints didn't you?"

 _The Previous Day . . ._

Law sat in the office of one Glassknow-san facing the bespectacled, salt and pepper haired man across a large mahogany desk "That seems a little low," the man grumbled.

Law had only smiled, "what do you expect, you threw me out of your office the other day, and then there's the little fact that once the World Government takes over the value of the company will drop. When you think about it you're actually making a profit compared to what the price would be if you sold your shares after the main sale. As for us, well, this is a risky investment on our part." Glassknow had nodded in understanding and Law continued. "Now just so the others don't get jealous of your price, why don't we say I was trying to sell you blueprints for a submarine . . ."

 _. . . Present_

"Give me those documents, now!" Nekonushi hissed lunging at Law, but the man's vice president held him back. Her face looked worried, but there was a shrewd calculating look to her eyes. Law would have been more worried had the look not been there. He liked knowing he wasn't dealing with a company completely made up of idiots. Stupid people did stupid things after all.

"Do you really think I'd be dense enough to have them on me?" Law's head throbbed with each of the resulting yells to that statement, but he was almost done here. Just a little longer, a few more words, and he could return to the sub.

"I suppose it would be futile to ask what you actually did do with those bills of sale?" Monique Jacqueline murmured.

"Don't worry they're someplace safe." Law replied. "Sadly I don't have your money either, so I can't give you a refund, as that is the next thing you probably want to ask. That sale was technically legal anyway. You really should have been paying more attention to what you were buying." He shook his head slightly as if in disbelief that these people could have been so stupid as to not see it. "Besides, I have plans for that money. You see in order to buy those shares I had to spend something, and what you gave me for those blueprints was more than enough to refund my crew three times over, not to mention what I'll make from having a foothold in this company. Especially after it's value sores when the world government deal falls through, and even if you don't inform them that you don't have the control necessary to sell, it will fall through. They can't have a questionable deal take place in this part of the ocean, not after what happened on Krocylea."

-:-:-:-

Zharrah had freed herself from Penguin's grip by aiming a kick to his groin. That was one blow he was not going to take no matter who he was fighting. He glared as the woman laughed wildly flourishing the rapier. Penguin twirled the pipe in his own hand. Off to the side he saw Shachi and Bepo diving behind a metal storage container, seconds later the cactus man was shooting needles at them and Penguin's eyes widened in shock as he watched those needles rip through the front wall of said container. Weren't those needles supposed to be harmless? Damn, he cursed mentally, he was going to have to stop playing around and actually finish this so he could help them if needed. Penguin had been half hoping Zharrah would grow tired of the endless circles and give up.

"Didn't I tell you to watch your own fight!" Zharrah snarled and lunged at him again. This time Penguin was ready. He shifted his length of pipe as he dodged so the Zharrah's blade slid through one end out the other, and then with a simple twist he was able to wrench the rapier out of her hand. At the same time he lunged forward using his elbow to strike the woman on the jaw. He tried not to hit her too hard, but she still staggered back several paces and sat down heavily in the dirt shaking her head as if she was disoriented. Seconds later Phineas was there length of rope in hand, taking full advantage of the woman's suddenly confused state to tie her up beyond any chance of escape.

"Well done, well done." The man grinned at him handlebar mustache quivering with the expression, "especially for one who obviously didn't want to fight her in the first place." His smile slipped slightly as he looked across the way towards the container Bepo and Shachi had temporarily hidden behind, "no offence meant towards your companions, but if they don't finish this soon my work men will come back from their lunch break and I can make no guarantee that they won't get involved."

Before Penguin could speak, Shachi and Bepo came charging around opposite sides of the storage container, each shouting in rage as if to intimidate their opponents. In fact Bepo's full out snarl was nothing short of hair-raising and Penguin felt a little shiver of alarm roll down his spine at the sound of it. It did make sense though; Bepo was a minkman with the form of an ice-bear after all.

What was surprising about the arrangement, however, was the fact that they had seemingly switched opponents. It took Penguin only a few seconds to realize why. Bepo had been able to full out charge Kakutamon, his bulk barreling down on the cactus man at an incredible speed, the man's cactus spins getting stuck harmlessly in the bear-mink's fur. Penguin wondered briefly why Kakutamon wasn't shooting the more dangerous spine he seemed capable of creating, before he noticed that the flower on the man's head that connected to those spines, seemed to have wilted. As he faced down the angry minkman, in spite of still shooting stream after stream of needles from his palms, Kakutamon seemed to be quivering in fear.

Shachi on the other hand seemed to having a much easier time taking on Oushigi than Bepo had earlier. His smaller frame and greater agility allowed the man to slip through gaps in the serpent man's defenses that Bepo never would have made, and while Oushigi's tail probably presented a greater threat to Shachi's more fragile, human body, Shachi had always been light on his feet. The man made avoiding the snake's blows look like child's play.

Bepo reached Kakutamon in a matter of seconds, sweeping the man up into what looked like a bone breaking bear hug. Crushing the man into his chest, against his own cactus needles that were tangled in the fur, Bepo squeezed tighter and tighter until the man went limp, when he simply dropped Kakutamon to the ground and walked away. A low groan escaped the injured man's mouth indicating he was still alive, but probably going to need a great deal of medical attention.

Shachi meanwhile, had managed to slip through Oushigi's coils, and successfully dart up from behind placing the serpent man into a chokehold. How he had gotten his arms around the snake's thick neck Penguin wasn't sure, but soon after Oushigi too was lying on the ground unconscious. Penguin smiled. It seemed he wasn't going to have to get involved after all. A relief really. If he set his shoulder back again . . . well it wasn't a pleasant thought. Besides, Penguin mused, if all went well he'd actually be able to fight for real next time.

-:-:-:-

He was done here. There was nothing left but to tell the people the consequences of their actions, and leave. Law sighed and rose to his feet brushing off the legs of his pants as he did so. "I regret to inform you that copies of those photos will find their way not only to your local authorities but to the closest marine base at my earliest convenience. Monique-san, I suggest you have Nekonushi-ya arrested before his failed reputation brings you down with it. I also suggest that you clear out of here before you are discovered and Phineas-san has you arrested for trespassing." It was deliberate. Calling Phineas "san" when he had been referring to Nekonushi as "ya" the entire time. "I am sorry to leave you with nothing."

Monique Jacqueline remained completely calm. In fact she even smiled slightly. "Well played, but you haven't actually left me with nothing. I still maintain a good a quarter of the company. Some people did sell before you arrived after all." She laughed and snapped her fingers. The guards surrounding the room jumped. "Men, Have Nekonushi-san taken into custody and held until the authorities can mount a full investigation into what exactly he's been doing behind all our backs." She grinned and Law had to give her credit. That smile nearly matched the cunning of his own. "I'm afraid," she started now looking completely innocent, "that when I found that second ledger I simply had no choice but to contact them."

Nekonushi's eyes widened in horror as two of his own goons stepped forward to each take an arm. "Wait no!" he screamed, and Law's scull felt as though it was about to split in two. "you can't do this!"

"Oh but I can." Monique Jacqueline chucked. "My dear man, just who is it that signs these good people's paychecks?"

It was done. He had won. Not bothering to hide his sigh this time Law turned and headed for the door. No one tried to stop him. If anything they made way, several even nodding in respect.

"Wait!" Monique Jacqueline called after him. Law stopped and waited though he didn't look back. "What's your name? Your actual name."

"Trafalgar Law." He answered simply, and in another few steps he was at the door.

-:-:-:-

Bepo grinned a bear's toothy smile of triumph. He'd done it. He'd taken down an enemy. True it had been dangerous, but he had won. The bear-mink looked at the chaos around him. It seemed that during their fight much of the surrounding dockyard had been destroyed. In fact most of it had been broken beyond recognition, not that Bepo knew what most of the junk was supposed to be in the first place.

And it would seem that Bepo was not the only being present who looked around with surprise. Many of the workmen were returning from wherever they had gone to get food, and their expression were one of complete horror and disbelief.

"Sir, hey, Sir," one called out in confusion, "what happened here?" looking suddenly weary Phineas sat down next to the woman who had been trying to kill Penguin, now tied up, and simply waved his hand in greeting.

"Pops needs to rest," Verne answered for his father, "any questions can be directed through me for the time being. As for what happened, let just say these guys got a little over zealous in their persuasion tactics and fortunately some of our customers were on hand to take care of things for them. Speaking of which, that yellow submarine . . ."

"I think they finished it right before break." Someone answered.

Verne nodded, " then what needs to happen is this. Someone needs to inform my idiot brother so he can come up with a clean up plan, while Pops rests, and someone needs to get the authorities so we can send these nuts to the slammer . . ."

Just then a light breeze picked up blowing through the wreckage of the dockyards and Bepo sniffed, his nose picking up a very familiar scent. "Captain?" he rumbled, and before anyone could ask what he meant, Bepo was taking off running through the rubble, around various corners, and knocking various things over, generally causing more chaos, until he came to a place that had managed to remain untouched by the battle. He could hear Shachi and Penguin panting behind him as they followed, but Bepo ignored the two men altogether as he focused on his nose.

The breeze had faded by this point, but the scent was still there lingering on the ground and leading towards a large steel sided warehouse up ahead.

"Bepo, what are you doing!" Shachi yelled at him his scent agitated. Penguin said nothing, only looked around, but he too smelled wary.

"The captain's here!" Bepo answered.

"There's always the chance he finished early and walked through the yard on his way back to the submarine . . ." Penguin started.

Bepo cut him off. "No. He's here, I mean in this place, probably inside that building."

"Don't be absurd." Shachi muttered but he never had the chance to say more. With an ear splitting squeal the warehouse door slid open and out stepped Trafalgar Law one hand rubbing his temples.

Bepo watched as the man stopped and blinked in the sunlight moving the hand to shade his eyes before dropping it to his side. He face showed no shock at finding several members of his crew waiting for him, but Bepo could smell his surprise. Yet the scent faded into something far stronger, pain, and a slightly sharp smell Bepo associated with sickness. Was Law ill?

The captain approached them and looked around, suddenly smiling, though the bear-mink wondered briefly if the smile might not have been forced just to reassure them. His suit was only a little rumpled, and Bepo noticed the strange fedora hat was missing, but Law seemed to be in good health. So what was with that pained scent?

Law reached up and rubbed the back of his neck slightly, "Well that was easy." Bepo caught Shachi's expression suddenly going blank and Penguin's slight smile as the man looked at his shoes. Shachi's clothes were torn up, both he and Bepo were covered in dirt, scrapes, bruises, and in Bepo's case cactus needles. Even Penguin sported several rips in his jacket where he had just missed being turned into a walking pincushion by Zharrah, but not one of them said a word. "Everything taken care of out here." Law asked looking at each of them by turn.

It was left to Bepo to reply. "Aye, captain."

Shachi opened his mouth and then closed it again. Law laughed though quickly winced and raised a hand back to his temple. The smell of pain grew stronger and Bepo suddenly knew that whatever he had been doing it had been just as difficult a fight as what the rest of them had just experienced. "What no snarky comments?" The captain managed to smirk at Shachi.

The other man only smiled and readjusted his sunglasses. "No, no I've got nothing."

Together the four, three men and the bear-mink, walked back through the dockyards towards the current location of their submarine. No one spoke as they passed the destruction of the fight, but as Bepo watched, Penguin bent down to pick up the parcel containing the boiler suits that had somehow remained unharmed, a question formed in his ursine mind. "Captain?"

"Yes?" Law answered softly.

"Can I have a boiler suit?" looking down at his chest Bepo half-heartedly began picking out some of the tangled cactus needles. "Maybe if I have one things won't get stuck in my fur so much."

"All right, Bepo, we can get you a boiler suit."

Bepo picked out a few more needles a second question forming as he did so. "Captain?"

"Hmmmm?"

"When we get back to the submarine, can I borrow your hair brush?"


	15. The Lothal Payout, and New Crew

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** And a big Thank You everyone for the Favs, Follows, and reviews!

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen**

 **The Lothal Payout, and New Crew**

They had returned to the submarine the very moment it had been released from the dry dock. The Captain disappeared immediately into his room where the door was shut and he remained until well after dinner, presumably asleep. Shachi had questioned him cautiously when he emerged and Law had simply muttered something about allowing himself to be drugged and he preferred not to discuss the matter. That response only left Shachi to wonder what type of man he had agreed to serve under. The next day, however, turned out to be among the most profitable days Shachi had ever experienced in his entire life. One look at what he had gained and Shachi knew that no matter how risk taking and possibly insane Law was, Shachi would happily have that man as his captain the rest of his seafaring life. Even if he did on occasion seem to be utterly heartless.

Everybody got up early that morning, including Mouse who had been incredibly disappointed to miss "the fun" from the day before. Upon hearing that statement Shachi determined immediately that the boy was going to learn to defend himself if it was the last thing he ever did. There was no way Shachi was going to let any person who thought of fighting as fun get anywhere near an actual combat scenario unless they could actually take care of themselves. He told the kid as much as the crew gathered over breakfast but before Mouse could reply there was a knock on the exterior door of the mess hall. Bepo abandoned his massive pile of sausage and bacon to answer it, only to stand back with that ghastly bear grin of his as Verne walked in bearing several letters and a newspaper.

"It is my pleasure to report that as per your agreement with our company all repairs have been completed, and as per that same agreement your current balance is zero." The man grinned handed Penguin the newspaper, handed Law the letters, and reached up to readjust his bandana, blue today, which seemed to be slipping slowly down over one eye. "Pops has enclosed the full details of the contract. Something about repairing the ship free of charge for the rest of her sailing life?"

"So the matter is complete then?" Law asked tossing the first of the letters down upon the table so his crew could make out that it was indeed an invoice with a zero balance, as he tore into the second.

"As recorded by this morning's newspaper," Verne grinned.

"Vice president of HullDesign Inc. uncovers CEO as fraud." Penguin read aloud from the front page of the paper. "Nekonushi Kuze arrested by World Government. Takeover of company canceled." And he turned the page around so they could all make out the headline and a large black and white photo of Nekonushi being hauled away by the local police. The laughter that followed the announcement lasted several minutes and by the time it died out Shachi noticed his captain shaking his head in disbelief over the second letter but smiling as he did so.

"You may tell your father that I accept his proposal." Law stated, "but if he expects to make good on it he should also know that I intend to leave this island by three o'clock this afternoon."

"Don't worry," Verne saluted, "I can pass on the message." He turned as if to go, even made it as far as the gangplank, but the Captain called him back.

"And Verne-ya, if you wish to join him, I have no objections to that either." Verne only smiled and waved as he left. "Thanks to them we made a tidy profit," Law grinned at his crew before getting up. Shachi watched as the man disappeared from the mess hall with his trademark smirk, obviously no longer feeling the effect of whatever had been given to him the day before. In less than a minute he returned baring the briefcase that contained the money he had received from Nekonushi in exchange for the false blueprints. He set the case on the breakfast table and opened the lid.

"So this is the profit you said we made?" Shachi questioned reaching out a hand to pick up a hand full of bills to start the count. His eyes widened has he saw the markings. These were some of the highest marked currency a person could own. And if the briefcase was full of this then . . . "Wait, there's more here then you said, even after we cut Pops and Verne a share!" And Shachi was going to insist on giving Phineas and his son a cut. He knew as well as any of them that without those two they never would have turned a profit at all. Pops had provided valuable information, and Verne had done a considerable amount of work. Come to think of it they should also set aside some for Lindy.

"Didn't I tell you I always keep my promises?" Law asked with a smirk. "And there will be more."

"More?" Shachi questioned.

"More," Law repeated. "HullDesign Inc. is a company that works with a process of annual dividends, meaning that as I never gave up the shares I bought, every year we get a small percentage of the profits. Before I even started this I asked Phineas to set up an account for us at one of the banks that maintains branches in all four seas as well as both halves of the Grand Line. We should have no trouble accessing our account from anywhere in the world. Of course as pirates it may be a bit difficult getting into a physical location, but for the time being that money will be safe."

"So, tell me something, Captain," Shachi muttered. He was pleased with the outcome of everything, but he had to know one thing. Just how much had this man he called captain really thought ahead. "If the first portion of the plan had failed and he had backed out of buying the blueprints, how were you intending to pay us back for what you spent on the stocks?"

"Sell back the shares, to those who didn't want the buyout to take place of course." Law grinned. It was an almost evil smile. Shachi had a feeling he was seeing the man's true face for the very first time.

"Sir?" Penguin questioned having followed the flow of the entire conversation.

"By owning the amount I do I can set the price of the market. Meaning I could have sold them back for double, or even the promised triple."

"So why didn't you?" Shachi questioned thinking this might have been an easier way to a quicker profit.

"Because as I said earlier Hull Design issues dividends on a yearly basis meaning that anyone who owns shares makes a profit. It was far more profitable to maintain that holding in the long run once we were sure we had enough cash on hand to get by for the time being."

"And if the market crashes?" Penguin murmured pointing out the one major downside to the situation.

"On an island run by the shipbuilding industry? Unlikely." Law corrected. "Beside, we did sell them the blueprints for Vegapunk's submarine which they will eventually be able to reverse engineer in spite of the little flaws we included. Once that happens their business will sky rocket, and so will our profits."

"What's to keep them from using it against us though?" This time it was Mouse that asked the question. Shachi had to admit he was highly impressed the kid had thought to ask that.

Law shook his head. "You're forgetting that we own enough shares to control the direction of the company, they won't under any conditions, do anything that could potentially hurt us. If only because by doing so they would hurt themselves."

"How much do we own?" Shachi asked after a long pause.

Law smiled, "enough."

That answer would have to do.

-:-:-:-

Bepo had not forgotten that the Captain had promised him a boiler suit of his own. In fact after he had made Shachi and Penguin spend hours helping him pick cactus needles out of his fur the previous afternoon, they had broken into the bundle full of boiler suits the seamstress had given them, also finding a yellow hoody bearing the Heart's Jolly Roger. Yet while Shachi and Penguin had each found their suit and changed into them immediately, and while there were a variety of sizes available, none of them fit Bepo.

"It's all right, we'll find you one." Penguin half-heartedly tried to comfort him as he hung his head in despair and Shachi called him pathetic.

"But there won't be time to have one in my size made." Bepo grumbled.

Penguin frowned in thought, "How do you feel about orange?"

"What?"

"The color orange, Bepo, How do you feel about it?"

"Penguin?" Shachi questioned.

"There was that orange boiler suit in the shop window." Penguin answered, "I'm betting it was large enough to fit a full grown bear-minkman."

"You know," Shachi muttered rubbing his chin, "you might be right." That was how a half-hour later Bepo found himself outside the seamstress's shop, with Shachi and Penguin, clad in a brilliant orange boiler suit. The seamstress even had an extra copy of the Hearts Pirate logo left over from the others and she had sewn it on to the orange suit for him.

It was a very strange feeling, wearing fabric that completely covered his fur instead of just the pair of blue shorts, but it wasn't nearly as hot as he had feared it would be, and in any case wearing the suit beat having to comb cactus needles from his fur on any occasion. Bepo was quite sure he would grow used to it in time, just as he had his boots.

He was not, however, expecting the captain and Mouse to join them. Mouse both looked and smelled extremely happy and was wearing a boiler suit of his own with his chest puffed out so that the yellow logo was easily visible, and the captain had donned the yellow hoody. Both were carrying boxes of what looked to be fresh local produce. The boxes were stuffed. There was plenty there, Bepo mused in anticipation. Even enough to feed him with plenty left over for the others, but Bepo doubted the captain had bought so much that it would go bad before they had a chance to eat it all.

"I see you found one." Law stated the obvious giving his crew a look over before he suddenly frowned. "Something's missing." And without another word he disappeared into the shop. The men shared a look and Bepo raked his brain trying to come up with what could be wrong, finding nothing. Law wasn't gone long though. A few minutes at most. No sooner had Bepo thought to ask if the others knew what was up then he reappeared with a blue ushanka, which he settled on Mouse's head. "There." Law muttered in a satisfied tone, "now you match the other two!" and with that he promptly turned on his heels and marched back to dockyards calling for everyone to hurry up. They were wasting daylight.

-:-:-:-

It was two-thirty by the time Law saw either Phineas or his youngest son again. In fact he was beginning to think they had changed their minds. Yet no sooner had he decided to leave at three o'clock on the dot then he spied a pair of figures walking towards the Acanthuridae. One was not Verne, as he had expected, but Phineas's oldest son Orval, and he seemed to be arguing with his father as they walked. Law went out to meet them, and he was soon joined by Shachi, Penguin, Bepo, and Mouse on the lower deck just in front of the gangplank.

"Father, this is insane. You can't do this!" Orval plead even as he helped his father wheel a dolly carrying a large trunk up the plank. "What if something happens?"

"You keep telling me to regularly see a doctor son, well, I've decide to travel with one!"

Orval opened his mouth and closed it again as if he wanted to continue to argue but couldn't think of a response to that particular line of logic. He was spared having to come up with an answer, however, by the arrival of his brother.

Verne appeared from the direction of the town as opposed to his family home. A bright red t-shirt above dingy jeans distracted slightly from his tattooed arms, and his bandana was slightly skewed atop his fair hair, but the man himself smiled jauntily at all present as he hauled two knapsacks and a duffel bag up the ramp. He looked around at them taking in their surprised looks. "You don't think I'm going to let my old man go off alone do you?" he grinned at them all even as his brother stood there stunned.

"Welcome to the crew you two." Law stated perfectly satisfied with this turn of events. Not only had he just obtained two excellent shipwrights, but one of them had a variety of other skills that could turn out quite useful. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the hatch. "Go find yourselves an unoccupied bunk."

"Thank you, captain." Verne paused, "Where should I put this stuff?" he hefted the duffel bag, "Got all my tat gear in there. Fresh ink, clean needles, sketch book, the whole shebang."

Law paused thinking quickly. He hadn't considered this development, he wasn't opposed though, he just hadn't considered it. After a moment he answered, "find a spot in the medical bay. We can move some supplies around if needed, just try to keep things organized."

"Good," Verne responded, "because I heard the kid wanted a tat, and I thought I'd bring plenty of material's with me. Besides someone else might want some work done and I've gotta keep my own fresh," he shrugged and disappeared through the door following on his father's heels.

-:-:-:-

When both men had said goodbye to their family, the Hearts Pirates sailed away from Lothal leaving an extremely displeased Orval on the docks. Phineas, or Pops as he had soon after requested to be called, waved goodbye to his eldest son, his mustache quivering in what Penguin originally thought to be misgiving, but soon turned out to be excitement. Despite his previously cool business exterior and level head during the dockyard fight, the man was actually quite easily riled up and it was soon quite clear why his sons had been worried about the condition of his heart. Law, however, insisted that everything was medically under control, and if Pops could follow a set of rules he would maintain a perfectly healthy existence for many years to come.

Verne, however, was entirely different from his father. Whereas Pops had immediately snatched up a boiler suit in his size and put it on zipping the front up all the way to his chin, Verne had simply rolled his eyes. It took Shachi explaining, in detail, what would happen to the man if he ever found him in the engine and machinery rooms without it, while the captain just stood by and watched, for Verne to even acknowledge that the article of clothing had any merit. Even then he simply slipped the boiler suit on like a pair of trousers and tied the arms around his waist for a belt.

Other than his dislike for the crew's new uniform Verne was perfectly genial. He had a ready smile and was willing to work, proving to have a daft hand with mechanical issues, and so while Pops promised to turn his hand mostly to the hull and the submarine's structural integrity, Verne was to maintain all of the eternal life systems; lights, water, airflow, those kinds of things, leaving Penguin and Shachi room to truly focus on the engines and propulsion systems and their maintenance. It was a relief. Being able to focus on only one bit of the sub at a time was exactly what Penguin had been hoping for. And he said as much as they all sprawled out on the upper deck the door to the war room and storage area left open, enjoying the sea breeze as they sailed along.

"Good, Good," Pops mumbled happily as he leaned against the rail mustache quivering in the light wind, "Always good to know my skills are appreciated."

Law, who was seated with his back against the now orange clad bulk of a sleeping Bepo who had sprawled out on the deck, only smiled lazily. Bepo snored, the Heart Pirates' navigator confident that the sea current he had found, thanks to the spotting of a school of fish, would carry them in the desired direction for the next couple hours had taken the opportunity for a nap. Nobody said much else. Nobody felt the need to say much else, the silence was comfortable and they were all quite simply too relaxed to bother trying to come up with a new topic of conversation.

It was Mouse who broke the silence just as Penguin reeled in his fishing line to check his bate and discovered that it had somehow or other been completely devoured without his notice. "I know what I want." The kid said softly, his voice barely audible from where he was seated at the far side of the deck from Penguin. "I know what tattoo I want to cover up my scar." And he raised a hand to point up at the black flag that was currently flying from the main mast, rippling in the wind. "I want our Jolly Roger."

They all stared at him in surprise more than anything and for a moment it seemed that no one knew quite what to say. Eventually it was Law who broke the silence. "Kid, are you sure?"

Mouse nodded enthusiastically. Penguin noted that for the first time since he had met the lad Mouse was not only speaking up, but doing so with a decided opinion. "Yeah, this is your sign and I belong to you now right?" They all froze. Penguin felt a slight chill up his spine that had nothing to do with the wind. How had they not seen this, how had any of them failed to realize that Mouse was still stuck in something of a slave mindset. This was a misunderstanding that needed to be remedied, and quickly. However, though Penguin opened his mouth, it was Law who replied first.

"Kid, you're free. You don't belong to anyone anymore." The captain stated firmly sitting up and away from Bepo's bulk.

"But . . . what I meant was" Mouse looked around at all of them obviously suddenly very confused. "We're nakama right?"

"Yeah, we're nakama," Shachi agreed quickly as both Verne and his father nodded.

"Most definitely nakama," Penguin put in, eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. He thought he was beginning to see where the confusion had come from.

"Nakama," Bepo murmured shifting in his slumber almost as though he could hear the conversation taking part around him.

"Don't agree while you're sleeping!" Shachi's expression of surprise at the bear-mink's remark would have been comical if the conversation that sparked it had not been so serious.

"Yeah, kid," Law agreed rising slightly to reach across the empty space between them and pull gently on the bill of the kid's hat, "we're nakama."

"And Nakama are like family, and family belongs together," Mouse continued pointedly.

"Yes – " Law answered hesitantly, "you could say that."

"So I belong with you and that's what I want!" and this time Mouse crossed his arms and stared at the Captain defiantly actually meeting the older man's eyes. The sight was so refreshing compared to his usual shy demeanor that Penguin nearly laughed allowed.

"All right," the captain finally agreed with a smile and a shake of his head, "As long as you understand it's with and not to." Mouse nodded. Law smiled, "I won't stop you. Verne?"

The blond man in question simply readjusted his bandana and grinned. "I'll take a look after dinner tonight and start sketching it out to size. We're going to want to get the positioning just right if it's going to cover a scar – probably need to take several sessions. What kind of scar is it by the way?"

Those who knew shared a look but before anyone could answer Bepo again shifted in his sleep with a very softly mumbled, "I'm sorry."

-:-:-:-

Law had to admit he was please to find that Mouse was not a complainer. The kid waited patiently for Verne to finish all the preparations and then sat through his first session without a hint of a whine over any pain or discomfort he'd felt. Law himself had watched from a corner of the room as Verne worked on the boy and he had to admit that the man had skill. Oh Law could draw just as well as anybody, years spent learning anatomy and needing to sketch various body parts or healing herbs had gained him that ability. But Law's drawing skills could only be called technical at best. Verne on the other hand had actual talent in addition to his skill. It was easy to see how he had gone from sketching ship blueprints for his father's company to a tattoo artist in his free time. Verne had somehow managed to take the Heart Pirate Jolly Roder and fit it over the top of the hoof of the dragon so that it seemed the branding scar had never existed. Admiring the work Law even acknowledged that he'd like something similar himself, a fact that had Mouse beaming ear to ear at the prospect of having a similar tattoo to his captain's. Verne had even readied fresh equipment to begin doing the work then and there.

With his first session done Mouse had spent the rest of the night running around shirtless just so he could see his new ink in every reflective surface the ship contained. Fortunately sleep soon won out over excitement.

The next morning brought an entirely different form of excitement. The morning paper. Some of his crew may not have understood Law's obsession with reading, or at least skimming, any current paper that crossed his path, but in Law's point of view information was key. The right piece of information might someday make the difference between successfully pulling off a plan and facing known an enemy that could quite easily take his life. Law was in no hurry to make such a mistake, and as he was a pirate his only reliable source of information was the news coo, who didn't seem to care who it delivered the paper too as long as the bill was paid. Even with that, all the news he received might not end up being in a timely fashion. That morning, however, it was, and the information he received did directly affect his crew.

"Well," he stated with a smile throwing the first page of the paper down on the table in from of his crew who were lazily assembling for breakfast. "It seems the Marines have decided to raise my bounty, though they're still deliberating over the amount, but more importantly, what do you think of that?" and he pointed at a rather large photograph of former rear admiral X Drake wielding what looked to be a large axe against a contingent of marines. Directly below was an article on the rise of several new pirates in North Blue among which Law was mentioned.

Though the article started out talking about North Blue piracy in general, mentioning Law, someone called Basil Hawkins, and Drake, it quickly deviated into a long-winded rant about the last. X Drake it seemed, had recently decimated a small marine base on their way to the Grand Line. What intrigued Law though was not the casualty report or what was stolen, but the fact that if Drake continued his current apparent course, and if everything went according to plan for Law, the two crews would converge on Reverse Mountain at approximately the same time.

"What do you think?" he asked his men as Shachi arrived from the kitchen and placed a large plate of sausages on the table shooting a glare at Bepo before the minkman could take the whole thing. "Should we try to delay a little bit?"

Pops twirled his mustache around his finger as he thought for a moment, but spoke with a calm paternal manner that easily dispersed any tension that had entered the room "No, No. After all there's no telling that something may not happen to delay him. The decision should be deferred until we are sure there is a danger."

"Besides," Shachi laughed retreating back to the kitchen his voice easily audible as both the door and service window had been left open, "I think it might be interesting to meet the man, don't you agree, Penguin? The two of us do have a few things in common with him."

"Mutiny for one," Penguin agreed though he did not look as though he was appreciating the joke, especially with his eyes still drooping with sleep.

"And didn't you once tell me you'd like to sail with the man?" Shachi continued returning with a tray full of eggs in one hand and a bowl full of diced fruit in the other. "Never mind, Captain. We probably should delay a bit. Otherwise we might find ourselves short a member of the crew." They all laughed over Penguin's half awake spluttering protests but Law filed the information away. Not because he thought he was in any danger of losing Penguin to another crew, but because it gave him further information into the man's character. Law knew well what X Drake had once been, what his reputation had once been, and it told him something that Penguin had admired a man who even Law at once time would have called honorable.

-:-:-:-

Jean Bart sighed and dared to glance up at the brilliant blue sky though he let it last for only a moment. Any longer and the chubby man on his back would let him know his displeasure at the disallowed action with a rain of blows delivered by a fine leather riding crop. The man on his back was no ordinary being either. The man on his back was a member of the elite, gifted by the divine, son of the founding kings. The man on his back was a Celestial Dragon. The man on his back expected absolute obedience.

At the moment Jean Bart was on all fours parading through the streets, acting in place of the Celestial Dragon's horse. Jean Bart carefully kept the expression on his face placid and devoid of any negative emotion. It would be a lie to say he didn't mind. It would be a lie to say he enjoyed the exercise. It would be a lie to say he didn't want out from under his master's thumb no matter what the cost. But getting out was not an option. One only got out when death approached. At the present moment Jean Bart had no wish to die.

He had once been a powerful man, a ship's captain, but no more. He had once thought about taking his fate into his own hands and fighting his way out, but no more. He had once thought if he did a perfect job they might eventually let him go, but no more. Now he was simply existing. Pushing on day after day, and hoping that he wouldn't lose himself in the process.

-:-:-:-

In the grand scheme of things the island of Reis was relatively ordinary. It was small, had no specific exports to boast of, and consisted of a single port city with a few outlying farming communities. Once it had been part of one of the four kingdoms destroyed by the Vinsmoke family, now it was just another lone island. It was not the sort of place Shachi would ever choose to visit or even the sort of place where he might think anything of any importance might happen. Yet while the island of Reis was small and uncomplicated, and while the island of Reis was well out of the way of any known marine bases, the island of Reis was also a well known port of call for many of North Blue's more notorious bounty hunters. And the Heart Pirates were sailing straight towards it.

He protested. Oh he didn't throw a fit, but he did go to Law and rationally explained the dangers and what sort of things they could expect to happen if they were to get caught. And Law listened. And then went and ordered Mouse and Bepo to maintain course.

At catching the somewhat startled look on Shachi's face the man's new captain simply smiled knowingly. "I have been a pirate in these waters for well over ten years." Law had pointed out. "I know the dangers and risks here as well as any man, better than most, and if we anchor at the cape on the far side of the island we should be fine."

"But Manatee Cove – "

"Is out of the way and while relatively small and uninhabited maintains a steady line of communication with the marines. Reis is a port full of bounty hunters precisely because it is located out of the way of those same marines. And as bounty hunters have been known to compete against each other instead of working together we'll have an easier time dealing with them. I do commend you though, on thinking ahead."

For some reason Shachi couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was being mocked. Law's face remained perfectly calm, however, and so Shachi let it go. Still, he spent the next few days playing lookout as they sailed onwards. Keeping his eyes on the horizon, scanning the waters for any unknown or marine ships. He'd have suggested they skip the stop altogether, but the truth of the matter was the price of goods on Reis would be far better than what they could even hope to find on Port Rose which was the last Island before reaching the Grand Line, and with the suggestion of Manatee cove shot down there really was no other alternative.

They arrived at the island late in the evening just as twilight was beginning to fall, and in the interest of efficiency Law ordered a review of the sub's systems with what little daylight they had left. That meant no one would be setting foot on the island until morning and somewhat relieved that they would have a plan before going to town he went about his chores with a much lighter heart. Still, Shachi couldn't quite shake the feeling that in the next day or so something was going to go wrong.


	16. Not Quite an Early Bird

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** As always thank you everyone for the favs, follows, and reviews!

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen**

 **Not Quite an Early Bird**

Awareness came slowly for most the next morning. Early dawn light shone down upon the sub as twilight faded into the horizon. Birds slowly lifted their heads out from under their wings, frost still coated the grass on the nearby shore where they had docked, and only three of the seven occupants of the submarine were awake. Law was not among them.

He was sound asleep in his bed in the captain's quarters on the topmost deck; content amongst dreams of vast landscapes, vaguely familiar but friendly faces, and successful medical procedures. Though normally an early riser Law had, believing that as captain he could take the luxury of sleeping in, stayed up late the night before deeply engrossed in a series of medical journals he'd discovered stored in the Acanthuridae's onboard library.

Law signed in his sleep and rolled over turning his face into the small bit of early morning light that peeked around the window shades, only to be jolted awake by the sudden blasting of bass, pounding of drums, and squeal of electric guitar that burst through the emergency com system. About as much a fan of heavy metal as he was of poetry, Law leapt from his bed, crossed the room in a single stride, and pounded his fist into the call button that was located next to the door just above the light switch. He didn't even have to ask to know who was responsible. "Verne!" he roared over the noise the unpleasant nature of his awakening affecting his mood on more than one level, "Turn that racket off now or I take a scalpel to your spleen!" Everything went quiet instantly.

Wondering exactly what was going on, Law pulled his hoody off the back of his desk chair, slipped it over his head, and made his way barefoot across the cold floors of the sub's interior and down several decks to where he could hear annoyed voices issuing from the main control room. His initial anger had chilled by this point into something of a far more rational displeasure. He was pleased to see, when the control room door slid open, that his was not the only wrath Verne had earned. At the center of the room stood Bepo, one large paw wrapped around the man's shoulders, holding him a half nelson, the man's bandana abandoned on the floor.

"Really, Verne, you should have realized Bepo'd be a bear in the morning!" Shachi quipped from where he had his head under a control panel going through a mess of tangled up wires that had been perfectly fine the night before.

"You know loud sounds hurt my ears," the ship's navigator half whined half growled, "and why'd you have to make them so early?"

"That," Law stated leaning against the doorframe, "was my question exactly."

He discovered in short order that what had happened was this: Verne, unable to sleep the night before, had taken the sub's stationary status as a green light to go through the wiring of the ship's systems. At some point over the course of the evening his sleep-deprived brain had stumbled upon the question of what would happen if he wired his TD player into the communications array, and could he effectively turn it into a ship-wide radio. The outburst of music had been his attempt to show, an entirely unimpressed, Shachi what he had been up to. What the man had failed to realize was that in failing to isolate individual rooms he had accidentally wired the entire ship's emergency com into the TD player so that anyone and everyone on board would hear what was played regardless of whether they wanted too or not. What Verne had also failed to realize was that Law was not the type of man one wanted to wake out of a sound sleep for anything other than an emergency.

"Here," Verne started with a shaky grin, "give me a minute or two and I'll have everything rewired the way I originally intended."

"Out," Law stated pointing at the door. For a moment Verne stared at him confused but before he quite dared question what Law meant Penguin had slipped past Law, several tools in hand talking the entire time.

"Here's the spare cutters, Shachi. Verne, you really did a number on the wiring behind the panel in the engine room. I don't know what you were . . ." he cut himself off mid sentence as he handed the tools to Shachi and turned to see the look on Law's face. By Penguin's shaken reaction Law supposed he must look like he wanted to kill somebody. Which at the moment, he had to admit, he did.

"Out!" Law repeated himself very carefully not shouting. If anything those occupying the room paid even more attention at his quiet tone. Bepo even released Verne and stepped back his nose twitching as if he could smell Law's furry, which he probably did. "I don't care what hour work started in the Marines or your Father's dockyards but none of you, _none_ of you have the right to make unnecessary modifications to this ship without asking your captain's permission first, certainly not this time of the morning, and not in such a way that you disturb or bring discomfort to the rest of this crew."

"Captain?" Shachi questioned as he scooted out from underneath the control panel and sat up nearly banging his head on the desk above him.

"The repairs to whatever damage Verne has caused can wait until everyone has had a proper amount of sleep. I'm going back to bed and I expect to be left alone unless something is on fire, we come under attack, or someone is in danger of dying. Now get out of this control room, leave the com system alone, and find something _quiet_ to do. Do, I, make, myself, _clear_?"

A chorus of a subdued "Yes, Captain" "Perfectly" and "Crystal clear, Sir" followed him as he stormed back up several decks to his room and collapsed tiredly back on the bed. The little sliver of sky he could just see through the crack in his curtains was still just barely turning pink. Fortunately for Law his eyes didn't stay open to watch it for long.

-:-:-:-

"I don't understand." Verne grumbled as his feet trample on the frost-covered grass with a soft crunch, "What part of "find something quiet to do" means we have to leave the ship?"

Penguin looked at the man out of the corner of his eye, but continued to follow Shachi through the pasture towards a road that the man assumed led towards the nearby town. The grass was just beginning to come back to life and he could make out a number of black and white spotted cows at the far end. "It's simple really." He explained. "Whatever you were doing last night made a mess of the wiring. Shachi is something of a perfectionist. The two things together mean we are now going shopping for new connectors and anything else he thinks we need in order to reorganize everything. Since you caused the mess you get to come with us. And personally I also think the whole expense should come out of your pocket book." Penguin only received a glare as Verne fished around in his jumpsuit pockets.

"This early?" Verne grumbled pulling a cigarette from the pack he finally found and lit up. "What do you want to bet not a single shop is open?"

Penguin barely spared the cigarette a glance. Better here in the wide-open air than anywhere else. Verne had already been on the receiving end of a lecture from the Captain on the negative health effects of the things and exactly why he should never be caught smoking inside the ship among other points, and another one from Shachi on ship safety and why he never ever wanted to see one of those things anywhere near the sub's machinery. Penguin agreed with the latter even if he did think the first should be left to personal choice. "If the stores aren't open by the time we get there," Penguin replied, "then we'll wait. Better to get what we need now and be ready to get back to work when the captain allows, than to waste more time collecting supplies later."

There was a crunch of gravel as Shachi reached the road several steps ahead of them and soon after the trio was headed towards town, their white boiler suits shining in the newly risen sun. Even Verne had zipped his all the way up against the early morning chill the yellow face of the adorning Jolly Roger smiling for all to see. Shachi just adjusted his hat and walked on. Penguin briefly wondered if wearing boiler suits with an obvious pirate Jolly Roger in a known bounty hunter haunt was going to cause them problems, but in spite of Shachi's protests Law had made no effort to actually hide the submarine, even if he had docked out of the way, so if trouble was going to come it was going to come regardless. Besides, he mused, Verne had strapped pair of long knives to his belt just in case, and Penguin was confident in the fact that both he and Shachi were proficient martial artists. Not to mention the fact that thanks to the Captain's excellent doctoring his shoulder had healed to the point that he felt comfortable with his ability to participate in a fight without cause himself further injury. He would not be next to useless this next time around.

-:-:-:-

Bepo had not enjoyed waking up to the loud music in the least. Not only had the sound overwhelmed his ears, but the obnoxious screams of what were supposed to be singers had set him on edge for hours afterwards. There was just something about screaming humans that made him want to check all the corners three times over, even harmless screams. Call it a bear-mink's survival instinct. It was fortunate the submarine was docked along the shore, because in his befuddled state Bepo might have gotten the whole crew lost had he been trying to navigate the waters with his nerves fried. Bepo hated to even think of that possibility. Not only was it his responsibility to get everyone from point A to point B safely, but he was a minkman, he was not supposed to get lost.

Harsh sounding, loud music and un-ideal awakening aside Bepo had to admit that so far he had enjoyed sailing with the human crew and Law. The dream he had once confessed to his now captain of being able to be himself had come true. Yes Shachi could be a bit of a bully and Penguin claimed the bear-mink couldn't go swimming when he was trying to fish, but Bepo knew the other men only teased him because they liked him. That and fishing put meat on the table and the Bepo's presence in the water really did disturb the activity. Bepo liked that Shachi was willing to point out what he could do better, that Shachi thought he was capable of doing better. He liked that Penguin would play his harmonica at night to entertain everybody, he liked that Mouse would ask him for help reading maps and about the weather and things. He liked that Pops would tell fun stories. He liked that Verne was willing to spar with him. Truth-be-told Bepo hadn't been this happy and this comfortable in his own skin in a longtime. Especially not when surrounded by humans. True he still wanted to go home and be among his own kind someday, but he wanted to sail around the world with Law first.

The door to the control room opened with a hiss and Bepo looked up from the book of navigational logs he'd been reading, ears twitching at the sound. He'd been trying to learn what was ahead of them in the Grand Line so he'd be ready, but at the sound of the door opening Bepo put the book aside, carefully so his claws wouldn't rip the pages, and turned.

It was Pops who entered, the older man's mustache twitching with his smile, and he seemed to be perfectly awake unlike Law who hadn't been seen since his outburst much earlier. "I'm headed into town." Pops informed the bear. "Captain's still asleep, and Mouse is at work cleaning the kitchen and mess hall. With everybody else off as well I thought you'd like to know."

"Okay." Bepo answered not sure what else he was supposed to reply. He never had understood why humans always had to know where the others were. Couldn't they just smell out the trail their friends had taken? No, Bepo reminded himself. Human noses were terrible.

"Good, Good. Well I'm off then." And Pops disappeared back through the door leaving Bepo to return once more to his book, puzzling over an entry he had just found about how a regular compass didn't work in the Grand Line. Bepo supposed he should ask Law about it. Humans seemed to need that little instrument to navigate, but Bepo was a bear-mink. Bears didn't get lost and they didn't need tools to find their way . . . not when they knew where they were going ahead of time at least. If there were any surprises ahead-

-:-:-:-

Just when Shachi was beginning to worry over the intelligence of their newest crewmate the man did something to impress him. This time round the Verne had managed to talk one of the local shopkeepers into opening a bit early so they could buy supplies. Granted they also had to find and buy the man an extremely early breakfast, but obtaining that single meal saved them a several hour wait. However approval of Verne's powers of persuasion aside Shachi knew, as they exited the store while the owner munched happily on a breakfast burrito, that his gut instinct about something going wrong had been right on the mark. The commotion ahead of them would have given anyone the same exact feeling.

Directly across the street outside what appeared to be a small-time newspaper office stood a young man of eighteen or nineteen arguing with the proprietor. The lad was rather thickset with little neck, round glasses, curly hair, and a stiff black bowtie that had been fastened to the front of his starched blue pinstripe shirt which was in stark contrast to his red suspenders. Whatever they were talking about the boy seemed near tears, double chin quivering, as he begged and pleaded with the older gentleman who only grew more sober looking but remained firm in his resolution not to help. Normally Shachi wouldn't have bothered with getting involved, but normally he would have been paying more attention to Penguin's more noble instincts. The moment the three men got within hearing range of the argument, all hope of staying out of it was lost.

"They've taken Lorelei," the distraught young man pleaded gesturing wildly with his hands as if to illustrate his point. "Please, let me use the Den Den to call the Marines, Mr. Rockwood!"

Mr. Rockwood's lips compressed in to a thin line and he grew obviously more irritated. "Listen, Albert," The thin graying man tried to reason, "It's the Black Hawk Group. You know full well they won't harm her. Worst case they'll keep the girl locked up in a room until they get what they want. I know it's your sister, Albert, but you have to think about this rationally. Calling the Marines here could only do more harm than good and I'm afraid I have to look at the bigger picture."

The heavyset youth visibly trembled, whether it was anger or despair Shachi didn't know. What he did know was that Penguin had already approached the pair, Verne close behind. He knew instantly that Penguin was going to cause trouble because he could see the man's fists clenched behind his back, even the usually laid back Verne seemed to walk with a kind of resolve. Shachi rubbed his temples with one hand, but followed.

"Pardon the interruption," Penguin began, "But I couldn't help hearing you mention the Marines and a kidnapped girl, what's going on?"

At the same time Verne had shoved both hands into the pocket of his boiler suit adopting an attitude that said quite plainly that he didn't really care, but was going to voice an opinion all the same. "The Black Hawk Group is a team of elite bounty hunters that operates off of this island right? How'd you end up mixed up with them?"

The old man, Mr. Rockwood, frowned at the lot of them, piercing each with a glare that said quite plainly that he hoped they all knew what they had just walked into, but he eventually shrugged and began to walk away. "If the lot of you want to be fool enough to get dragged into this mess it's not my problem," Shachi heard him mutter as he disappeared back into the newspaper building letting the door slam closed behind him. Albert, however, looked distinctly relieved to have somebody, anybody, take an interest in his little problem. Or not so little as it turned out.

"You mean you'll help me?" he asked desperately grabbing hold of Penguin's boiler suit causing the man to look suddenly alarmed and attempt to push the much larger youth away.

"Well we'll certainly hear you out." Penguin muttered finally detangling himself from Albert's grip, which seemed unusually strong for someone so pudgy. Shachi sighed. It seemed there was no helping it. Penguin would get himself involved in other people's problems if the marines were chasing them into a hurricane.

"I don't suppose there's a place we could sit down and talk things over." He muttered. Albert nodded vigorously looking calmer now that somebody was listening to him, but still ringing his hands out of nervousness and Shachi suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, not that anyone would see the gesture behind his sunglasses, but still, they had said they would hear the man out.

Albert led them down the block to a small blue painted café where a sign had just been flipped around to announce that the place was now open, and the four men filed in and took places around a table near the corner furthest away from the door. The place looked clean enough and the waitress seemed friendly, even ignoring the approving look over Verne gave her, which was promising. Shachi had learned a long time ago that a clean place and friendly staff usually indicated decent food. But before he could think too much on it, indeed before they had even gotten their first round of coffee, Albert had launched into his story.

"The- the first thing you need to understand is that The Black Hawk Group is a team of Elite bounty hunters. Like your friend –"

"Verne," the man in question offered.

"Verne already said." Albert heaved a deep sigh and took off his glasses to clean them. "I do know what they want," he continued, "and if it was money or something material I'd give it to them. The problem is it's not, and I can't."

"What do they want?" Penguin asked gently.

The answer was entirely unexpected, at least for Shachi. Albert put his glasses back on, looked them each squarely in the eye and said, "My father."

-:-:-:-

The second interruption of Bepo's morning wasn't really an interruption as he had by that point grown tired of looking at the charts and needed a break. Mouse, eager to get off the sub but unwilling to go alone had chosen to seek out Bepo in hopes the minkman would accompany him. Bepo, of course, was always up for anything that involved going outside, and so while neither one particularly wanted to visit the town, the two crewmates set out to explore the countryside of the small island.

Bepo was please that Mouse considered him a friend and wanted his company, but he was even more looking forward to getting away from Law who had finally crawled out of bed and was now seated in the mess hall nursing a cup of black coffee and still glaring darkly at anybody foolish enough to cross his path. Bepo was familiar enough with his captain's darker moods to know that everything would blow over on an hour or so, sooner if the man got enough coffee in him, but he, like Shachi and Penguin who had left earlier, wanted to get safely out of the way until the captain's stormy mood blew over. So it was that the bear-mink walked beside the boy down the same path the rest of their crewmates had taken earlier, though going the opposite way. Perhaps they looked a bit odd, the nine foot tall bear next to a human boy, but Bepo kept Mouse entertained by telling him all the things he could small that the kid couldn't, for example that a fox lived nearby, and Mouse was full of questions mostly about how Bepo, as a "bear", had ended up as a navigator. Bepo did his best to explain about minkmen and his home island.

They hadn't been walking long, maybe ten minutes or so, but at they crested the nearby hill, putting the submarine out of sight, both beings stopped short at the sight of a young girl running towards them. Her sandaled feet slapped the ground as they propelled her forward, arms pumping, brown hair and blue dress streaming behind her as she ran. She was obviously not paying much attention to where she was going as long as she stayed on the road. Bepo noticed that there were tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Whoa!" Mouse cried grabbing the girl and spinning around as she nearly ran him over. As she blinked wearily up at them, still crying, Bepo could easily see that she was quite a few years younger than Mouse's fourteen. "Where you off to in such a hurry," the boy asked, "Has something happened?"

"It- it's Marmee," The girl choked, "She's so sick, and her side hurts, and Albert had to leave to rescue Lorelei, I don't know what to do, and the only other person around was Mr. Freed who's not nice at all, but she needs a doctor – and I had to leave her with him, and –" here she broke down sobbing in Mouse's arms leaving the kid looking horrified and completely unsure of what to do though he did try to pat her back gently. Bepo could smell her fear and sorrow mixing with Mouse's uncertainty, and offered up the only solution he could think of.

"Captain is a doctor." Had Law not repeated that phase a hundred times over? "He might be able to help."

The girl hiccupped and looked at them hopefully. Mouse smiled, relief obvious in his eyes, but suddenly the girl yelped and dropped to her knees. "You're a Bear - Your bear can talk!" She stammered.

Bepo started to apologies, but Mouse was hauling the girl to her feet, "Yep, he's amazing isn't he! Now let's go ask the Captain what he can do." And the boy proceeded to haul the girl back towards the sub.

"What if – what if he says no?" she asked cautiously stumbling along.

"I don't think he will," Bepo rumbled in answer following close behind, "but at least you'll be closer to the town right?" She nodded and let herself be dragged down the road by Mouse, eventually finding her feet enough to nearly run beside him.

It didn't take them long to make it back to the sub. Knowing the situation could be urgent, and now traveling down hill, the trio managed to make it back in less than half the time the two crew members had taken going. Smelling the girl's urgency Bepo had even agreed to carry her as Mouse ran ahead in search of the captain. But in spite of their haste they did not travel in silence. Bepo, knowing Law's tendencies when it came to medicine, asked the girl a number of questions he thought Law would want to know. Her name was Jane, her mother was the only one sick, none of her family had been sick earlier, they hadn't eaten anything strange – Bepo knew there were other things he should ask as well, but he couldn't think of what they were and besides, they had reached the sub where Mouse and Law were waiting for them, Mouse bent over double panting as he tried to explain to the captain what was going on.

Law still smelled annoyed, Bepo noted his ears drooping with the realization. True, the scent wasn't nearly as sharp as it had been that morning, but it was still there. Yet at the sign of Bepo carrying a child Law's scent changed. Even the expression on his face softened, showing some concern as Jane told him about her "Marmee" and how the woman had been sick since very early morning, all the while experiencing terrible pain in her side. Law nodded, asking questions and offering calm replies.

"Yes," the Captain answered finally his scent now shifting to something Bepo would call confidence. "I think I can help. Bepo, accompany Jane-ya back to her home and collect her mother. Mouse, I'll need you to help me prep the medical bay. I'll need to examine the patent to be sure, but it sounds like appendices which means surgery will be required." There was a slight grin as he said this, but Bepo just chalked it up to his captain's confidence in his own medical abilities.

-:-:-:-

For a moment the group at the table could only stare at him in silence and Albert once again removed his glasses and began cleaning them. The waitress arrived just in time with their meals. Penguin's plate was filled with several umboshi stuffed onigiri, a meal he knew he'd never be able to eat in front of his captain, not without being on the receiving end of several scathing remarks. Shachi, similarly, had ordered what looked like coffee cake, also disliked by the captain as it fell in the bread category but not quite regarded with the loathing he seemed to show the pickled plums.

"This group," Shachi said hesitantly once the waitress had left, "kidnapped your sister, to get at your father?"

Albert nodded vigorously, "Yes. Exactly."

"But why?" Penguin blurted unable to understand what he was hearing due to the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. "What could they gain?"

Albert bit his lip but answered in a way that said he was being entirely honest even though he wasn't sure he should be. "A twenty million beri bounty."

"Twenty Million!" Verne exclaimed sitting back in his chair, but Shachi quickly silenced the man with a look.

"Twenty million," Penguin repeated, "for your father? What did he do?"

Albert hesitated looking at his food, but answered honestly, "Are you familiar with the Name Howard Bell?"

"Wait a minute," Penguin interjected, "That's the guy who invented the receiver that pretty much tripled the range of a full den den mushi, and he was only eighteen when he did it." when they all looked at him blankly Penguin had to wonder if he was the only one who paid attention to history. Albert sighed and launched in to a more complicated explanation.

"My father is an inventor who specializes in communication relays and den den mushi reception and transmission among other things, yes. However, a few years ago he accidentally intercepted and deciphered several of the World Government's encoded messages. Messages scrambled with a code they believed to be unbreakable. In addition to that what the missives contained was highly sensitive information. He thought they were test message sent to help debug the new system they were working on. The World Government didn't believe that he wasn't going to sell the information, and to avoid arrest he was forced to go underground. No one's seen him in a eighteen months and the government is getting so desperate they've offered a massive bounty." Albert wouldn't meet any of their eyes as he pushed his food around his plate. "I suppose that's why the bounty hunters came," he continued." They believed that by threatening us they could lure him, but even Marmee doesn't know where he went. Now . . . now the Black Hawk Group has kidnapped Lorelei, taken my little sister, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Nothing I have that I can exchange to get her back."

"Couldn't you hire someone to take her back?" Verne volunteered helpfully, but Shachi quickly shot the suggestion down.

"Even if he could bounty hunters as a general rule do not interfere in each other's work," he explained. "They may compete with each other for the first to the catch, but once one's got a bounty in hand it's considered poor form to interfere. It comes down being able to trust each other to do their jobs and the big time clients aren't going to hire a person they don't trust."

Penguin nodded, it made sense to him, but there was one thing that felt slightly off. "So," he started hesitantly, "Why won't anyone let you call the marines."

"Because the residents of this island keep the Black Hawk Group and similar bounty hunters well fed, clothed and sheltered in exchange for their protection. They won't do anything to upset them," Shachi snapped. "Didn't you read any of the information we were given before crossing into North Blue? Why do you think I was so dead set against coming here in the first place!"

Penguin smiled sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and tried to focus on the problem at hand. True Shachi might not pay attention to history, but he was well versed in current events. "All things considered I'm not really seeing any options here Albert-"

"The whole problem here is that even if the girl is rescued that Black Hawk Group would remain free to try it again," Shachi clarified expanding on Penguin's comment. "Whatever was done would have to be done in such a way to completely discourage the idea that they could get to your father through your family in the first place. They would have to be given some reason to fear retribution, some reason to believe your father was dead, be made to look like complete and utter fools for even trying to threaten your family, or have their trust completely shattered so they'd be unable to work together ever again." Albert nodded in understanding looking completely downcast.

"With the right materials I could forge Mr. Howard's death certificate," Verne offered. Penguin and Shachi both looked at the man, Penguin feeling shocked at the very suggestion, Shachi looking somewhat resigned, as if he considered it a valid option though a last resort.

"That might be an option." The older man muttered thoughtfully. "Or perhaps the Captain can use his contacts with Captain Beckett's crews to get this island named part of the pirate's territory."

"I think that Captain may have used up the last of his favors on Saim." Penguin muttered and Shachi nodded conceding the point. It was then that Penguin noticed that there was one side of the table that was oddly quiet. Looking over he noted the empty chair and the cash next to the still partially full plate, "Where's Albert?" All three Heart Pirates stared at each other dumbfounded.

"I swear, I didn't even see him get up," Verne muttered.

"He's not a small guy, Verne, how could you miss it? You've been facing him the entire time," Penguin pointed out wondering why he himself hadn't notice the lack of movement or the missing sound of a fork moving about the plate sooner.

"I was distracted by you two talking about Beckett!" Verne objected. "How could anyone pay attention to the small stuff going on around them when that name is mentioned!"

"Either way we have a choice to make," Shachi cut in. "Are we going to get involved in this or not? And if so do we tell the Captain?"

Tell the captain, the memory of his face that morning alone was enough to make Penguin shudder. "I vote we help," he answered, "but if possible handle it on our own."

"Question is can we pull it off without his help?" Verne muttered.

Shachi nodded, "I think we can. I got a few plans in the works at least. But if the Captain does find out-"

"Is it better to beg permission or pardon?" Penguin finished for him.

"I vote pardon." Verne answered, "At least then the deed will be done, the girl safe, and a few bounty hunters knocked around a bit. If they can't catch us, honestly they shouldn't try."

"But the Marines," Penguin muttered allowed, "if there's a way to get them involved use the rules in our favor . . ."

"We're pirates," Shachi pointed out, "and Mr. Howard is hiding from the World Government making him an outlaw by default. I hardly think the rules apply to the situation, or if they did we'd end up clapped in irons along with the bounty hunters."

"So we're in agreement then?" Penguin asked just to be sure.

"How old do you think this girl is? Maybe she'll reward me with dinner?" Verne asked by way of an answer to which Shachi sighed, shook his head, and pushed his sunglasses back up his nose.

"Unlikely," the man muttered, "The way Albert was talking she's younger than he is, and I'd peg him at nineteen tops."

"Oh. Oh well," Verne shrugged, "Still, we can't leave a damsel in distress can we."

"That leaves only one question . . . Where the hell did Albert go, and without him where do _we_ start."

"Technically that's two-"


	17. In His Crew's Hands: The Men He Trusts

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you all for the favs, follows, and reviews!

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen**

 **In His Crew's Hands: The Men He Trusts**

It didn't take Bepo long to make the journey to pick up Law's latest patient, Not with Jane riding on his shoulders, holding tightly to his orange boiler suit as he ran, and pointing out directions. The girl seemed oddly comfortable with him now that she had seen that none of the others seemed surprised by his clothing or walking upright or the fact that he could talk. The adaptability of human young, he supposed. Children always seemed more willing to accept the odd or fantastic as an explanation. Jane for example seemed to think he had eaten a devil fruit that made him a human bear, no matter how much he tried to explain that everyone on his home island was much like him, no devil fruits needed.

The house Jane directed him to was a small, yellow, two story building, with peeling paint and a porch swing. It was located in a long row of four or five houses, on either side a of lone street that branched off the main road, and the entire neighborhood seemed to be surrounded by acres of fields and pasture land. To Bepo it looked like the humans had each put their houses in the corner of the property nearest the others so as to make a small town. Bepo wondered if five houses could be called a small town. A horse in one of the nearby fields whinnied in fright when it noticed Bepo, and ran to the far end of its pasture. Bepo very kindly did not show the animal his teeth. It was too scrawny to make a good meal anyway. Not the he was actually entertaining the idea of eating the horse.

A very short time afterwards Bepo was letting Jane off his shoulders so the girl could run inside shouting, "Marmee, Marmee, A bear's going to take you to see a doctor! Don't be afraid! He's a friend!" Bepo carefully followed the girl inside, stooping through the doorway though his head still brushed the ceiling, into a very comfortable living room area. The sick woman in question was laid out on the sofa, hand clutched to one side, a bucket on the floor by her head. She stared at Bepo warily, but seemed too sick to react with much more than a surprised flinch.

The room itself smelled of illness, and of pain, and of worry, but there was something else. Something darker. The blinds had been drawn against the outside light so it took Bepo a moment or two for his eyes to adjust, but once they had he knew what that scent was, or at least where it was coming from. In the corner of the room, in a high backed chair, sat a tall and well build man with long somewhat shaggy black hair and dark eyes, dressed in what appeared to be black leather. There was a nasty smirk across his face and Bepo was reminded somewhat of a vulture waiting for it's prey to die. Based on scent alone Bepo knew he didn't like this man.

The strange, foul smelling man apparently didn't like the idea of allowing Jane's mother to be moved to see some doctor who wasn't even a resident of the island. Jane stomped her little foot at the objection and stared up at him. "Mr. Freed," she snapped, staring up into his smirking face in earnest, "Marmee is sick and she's going to the doctor and that's the end of it! If you want to wait for Albert to come back for what we can do for Lorelei that's fine, But Marmee and I are going!"

The man, Mr. Freed, attempted to put himself between the girl and the door, but Bepo was there first, and there was no arguing with a nine-foot bear-minkman, especially in an enclosed space. "I am taking them to a doctor," Bepo growled showing his teeth and practically shoving his nose in Freed's face as he stooped even more to be at eye-level with the human.

"It – It talks!" the man exclaimed sitting down heavily of the floor visibly shaking. Bepo growled in annoyance, picked the man up by the scruff of his leather jacket, and promptly moved him across the room to an out of the way corner as Jane helped her mother off the couch and out the door. Bepo quickly followed relieved to be outside where he didn't have to stoop. Bending down so that Jane could climb back on his shoulders Bepo also carefully picked up her mother, handling the ill woman as one would handle a newborn kitten. Not that Bepo had ever been allowed near any newborn kittens, but he was very careful.

"Now I'll take you to the Captain," he rumbled cheerfully, happy he had completed his first mission on his own.

It wasn't long before Bepo had his passengers, though he had needed to stop so Jane's mother could be sick on the way, safely in the medical bay where Law examined his patient. The woman in question, whose proper name they learned was Mary, was stretched out on the bed with an IV in her arm containing some sort of medication that Bepo couldn't pronounce and some other things attached to her that went to a machine with a screen that flashed with different lines and numbers. Jane seated herself on the bed by her mother's feet watching Law closely as he examined the woman's abdomen.

"As I thought," the captain murmured, "it's going to have to come out."

"Surgery?" the woman murmured groggily, "I don't have the money for . . ."

"I have never refused a patient based on payment availability," Law answered half distracted as he checked the feed on the IV. "If you truly feel the need to compensate me there are other ways. Perhaps you know information about the seas between here and the Grand Line? Or can introduce me to someone who does? That will be more than enough." Law turned and began laying out tools on a clean tray though he paused to look over at Mouse, "kid, you sense Penguin or Shachi around with that gift of yours? I could use one or both of them right about now. Shachi preferably, he does have some medical experience."

Mouse closed his eyes and seemed to focus and Bepo was reminded rather abruptly that the kid claimed to be able to "hear the voices" of people he knew well. Law had called it observation Haki. Bepo had no idea what that was, just that it meant Mouse could find people. "No, he said for a few minutes, they seem to be out of my range. Verne seems to be heading back towards us though and -"

Just then there was a soft knock on the medical bay door and Pops appeared carrying a large box of what seemed to be carefully packed jars. His mustache twitched as he took in the appearance of the two strangers in the room, one of them a young girl, but he only smiled at them. "Hello, hello. I've got the new stock of medicines and herbs you asked for, Captain. I was able to find everything rather easily. Well, everything except the Black seed oil. There was only one shop that carried it and I think the owner might have overcharged us on the price."

"That's fine," Law muttered with a frown clearly distracted.

"I also saw Shachi and Penguin," Pops added in. "They were talking to a young heavyset man with a bowtie."

Jane giggled, "That's my brother Albert. He's the only one who wears a bow tie around here," she continued, "he says they're cool."

"You can help me then," Law stated looking towards Pops and then shifting his attention to a gas canister of some sort with a mask that he put on Jane's mother. Bepo didn't know what it was, just that he had once overheard Law explaining to Penguin how it made people sleepy. "Between you and Mouse I'm sure you can hand me the proper tools and such. Jane-ya, I'm going to need you to sit somewhere else."

"You mean I can watch?" The girl said excitedly as she moved to sit on a different bed, "Albert never lets me watch when he works on anything! He says I get in the way. Lorelei will though, that's my sister, sometime she'll let me help her sew things and . . . and–" here she began to cry again causing Mouse to look panicked and Law to raise an eyebrow though he remained at the patent's side carefully monitoring her condition as she fell into a deep sleep.

"Here now, here now," Pops rumbled moving towards the again sobbing girl, "it can't be that bad, the Captain'll help your mother. She'll heal up just fine."

"No, it's not that," she managed to choke out, "It's-it's just that . . . Mr. Freed had his men kidnap Lorelei. He thinks – he thinks that'll make Pa come home and then they can capture him and give Pa to the marines!"

"What's your family name?" Law asked nodding to himself as he checked Mary's vitals.

"Howard," Jane sniffled. At that name the captain's eyebrows nearly disappeared under his hat and Bepo noted that for the first time in a very long time Law smelled surprised.

"You said your brother was the kid with the bow tie?" Pops suddenly asked the girl handing her his pocket-handkerchief.

"Uh-huh."

"And I saw Penguin and Shachi talking to him," Pops suddenly paused, "Do you want me to go after them Captain? Deliver any specific orders?"

"No," Law answered as he scribbled something down on a bit of paper he'd pulled from a pad on a nearby counter. "They're Heart Pirates, I trust them to handle it. I want you to watch that monitor and inform me every time one of the numbers change." And he handed Pops the paper.

"You hear that child?" Pops asked the girl as he moved to do his assigned job, "You're sister will be safe in our crews' hands."

"Mouse I need you here to hand me things," Law snapped as Jane's tears quieted at Pop's reassurance.

"Room." Law's sphere of influence this time only enveloped a small circle around the patient's bed. Bepo had the feeling that his Captain wasn't really going to use it for much, that the man just felt more comfortable with it there. Jane sat still watching, Mouse gulped but stood waiting, Pops kept his eyes on the numbers on the machine. Bepo, however, had no wish to watch a surgery, innards held very little to interest him, and so with a murmured "good luck" he slipped out of the medical bay and into the hall.

As the door closed behind him Bepo noticed a shadow near one of the machinery compartments. Making his way carefully through the hallway Bepo poked his nose around the doorway to a storage room only to jerk back as Verne did similarly on the other side. Bepo could only say that if the other man didn't look like he was up to something he smelled like it.

"Whoa, Bepo," Verne gasped," you startled me. Stepping around the minkman into the hallway Bepo noticed that it seemed he new crewmate had returned with supplies to fix his mess from earlier that morning and been interrupted in the process of putting things away. At least Bepo hoped Verne had been putting things away because the tool chest that usually sat in the corner of the room was a mess. Shachi would throw a fit if he saw it. Bepo made a point of telling the man.

"It'll be fine, do you know where we stored the left over yellow paint?" Verne answered.

"I'm sorry," Bepo answered thinking that he was going to have to start paying attention to where the rest of the crew put things.

"I'll find it. Where's the Captain?"

"Doing a surgery," Bepo answered wondering if he should ask Verne if he knew where Penguin and Shachi were so they could help as Law had earlier wanted. Verne, however, was still talking.

"Good I won't bother him then. Shachi, Penguin and I have a few more errands in town, we'll be back later." And with that Verne was gone, his work boots tramping as he walked back up the hall towards the stairs and the upper deck and main hatch of the submarine.

-:-:-:-

It took some time, getting everything ready, but in the end they did it. Penguin had to say the more he understood of what Shachi intended the more he was impressed, especially when it came down to using the leftover paint from the sub. Designed to be beat upon by the elements that paint, once dry, wouldn't scrub off so easily. Now they just had to worry about Albert.

It wasn't truly a difficult task on it's own. Albert was a relatively easy man to find and follow, the trouble arose from where Albert had gone. Penguin himself had spotted Albert going to various places around town, each time repeating the scene he'd had earlier with Mr. Rockwood of the newspaper office, only to get turned away time and time again. It would have been easy to go up to the youth and explain that he and his friends were in fact going to help rescue the boy's sister, but Shachi had stopped him. Their plan depended on the element of surprise, their ability to shock and awe their opponent. Shachi didn't know or trust Albert enough to run the risk that he might expose everything too soon. So Penguin waited and watched, and kept tabs for Shachi who was making the necessary preparations with Verne.

Eventually Albert seemed to give up. Making one last stop at a hardware shop he spent nearly an hour inside and reemerged with a long round package wrapped in brown paper. Head hanging in despair he very slowly made his way back through town towards the opposite end of the island from where the Heart crew had docked their submarine and into what could only be called the underbelly of the area. Penguin followed, and signaling Shachi and Verne via the baby den den mushi Verne had brought back with him from the ship, told them it was time.

The buildings were falling apart here. The paint was peeling, shutters handing on one hinge. Penguin could see dirt patches in the yards where grass had apparently never grown and the businesses hadn't even bothered to wash their windows. Penguin looked around in shock. This was so different from what he had seen so far and he was beginning to wonder how the neighborhood was allowed to exist, why people hadn't tried to clean it up, when he suddenly saw something and understood. Albert had headed towards an old factory and warehouse building and slipped quietly inside ducking under a partially open loading door. Painted quite plainly on that door was a symbol Penguin could only assume belonged to the Black Hawk Group. A hawk's head, with two wings on either side. The bounty Hunters controlled this area, Penguin realized, and they couldn't care less about the lifestyles of the people around them, as long as they themselves got paid.

It wasn't long before Shachi and Verne joined him, long enough for Penguin to find a back door but not more then a few minutes. "You two still sure you want to do this?" Shachi whispered as Verne shifted a pack full of various supplies around on his shoulders.

"Yeah," Penguin answered even as Verne grinned.

"The plan's still that you two provide a distraction while I find and rescue the girl, and then apply some finishing touches to –" Verne started, but Shachi clamped a hand over his mouth as a guard stepped out of the building and proceeded to walk around the corner pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

"It looks like there're offices in at least half of the upper story above the main work floor." Penguin whispered when the guard was gone, "the girl'll probably be in one of those rooms. I'm also betting that there's some sort of observing platform as well. Shachi, if you and I go there first-"

"Yeah, yeah, we'll be able to get a general idea of the floor plan and who's where before we start causing havoc. Good idea."

"Wait a minute," Verne interrupted, "How'd you know there're office in the top floor?"

"Check the windows, moron," Shachi answered for him, "there're curtains in a few of them and not in others. Actually," here he pulled on the pink brim of his hat slightly to get a bit more shade from the sun, "the one on the corner's got the blinds drawn. I suggest you try that one first."

"Curtains," Verne grumbled as the three of them moved forward cautiously and proceeded to sneak through the back door. "The man can extrapolate the number of occupied rooms based on curtains."

Fortunately for the three of them the stairs to the upper floor were located right next to the door. They slipped up them as quietly as Mouse in his new sneakers, and split up at the top. Verne headed down a hallway of offices lock-pick set in hand, and Shachi and Penguin headed the other direction towards the doorway of what Penguin presumed to be an observation area. He was right, and fortunately it was unoccupied. The doorway on their end had been left unlocked and one on the far end of the room left open on a second stairway to the unlit room below.

The observation room itself was mostly dark, though Penguin could see a set of control on the wall that could easily light up the whole area including the work room, and he and Shachi stayed low so as to not be spotted through the large plexiglass windows that gave them a full view of the single lit area below.

Albert, though now very bravely facing two rather intimidating looking men and a few of their underlings, had never made it much past the loading door he had entered by. The young man was now desperately trying to convince the men that he had no idea where his father currently was and that keeping his sister, Lorelei, was not going to get them what they wanted any faster. Penguin and Shachi could hear every word, and it was infuriating because no matter how much Penguin wanted to jump in and pound these guys Shachi was still holding him back. "Not yet," the other man whispered, "we've got to get the timing right or Verne won't have the time he needs to find the girl."

"I'm sorry, Albert," one of the men below laughed. He was dressed in ripped jeans a studded leather vest and sporting long black hair, a number of tattoos, and wide black sunglasses. "But we took your sister hostage expecting to get something in return for her and I ain't lettin' her go until we do!"

"Peace, Jonas," his partner, a man dressed entirely in black leather with a nasty smirk, interrupted. "I think young Mr. Howard here is just looking for a quiet resolution. Isn't that right, Albert? And you do understand that Jonas and I do have jobs we need to do so we can put food on our own table."

"Yes sir, I do, sir, Mr. Freed, Mr. Gordan sir." Albert stammered. Penguin felt a flash of disgust. Had their places been reversed he would not be standing there licking the man's boots, he'd be pounding the smirk off this Freed fellow's face, demanding the girl's return, and with any luck leading them both away in cuffs . . . at least if he'd still been a marine -

"So you'll agree, Albert, that if possible some compensation would be in order? I'll take it you'll understand if I decide that compensation is to be the amusement I gain from watching you get your fat, ugly face pounded in!" and the man named Freed snapped his fingers. Immediately four of the Black hawk Group's cronies leapt at the young man. But somehow or other, by some miracle, Albert was prepared.

Ripping the brown paper of the parcel he'd been carrying, the heavyset youth displayed a sort of homemade projectile weapon that Penguin initially thought was a rocket launcher. But when Albert pulled the trigger it wasn't a shell that flew out, but a ball of thin chain that quickly unraveled as it soared turning into a large net. Albert's assailants were quickly entangled, both with the net and with each other. Penguin grinned. Now he knew why Albert had spent an hour in the hardware store it was obvious he'd made that thing himself.

"Fine!" Albert shouted tears rolling down his cheeks, "if you won't give Lorelei back, I'll take her from you by force." And this time even Penguin had to admit he was somewhat impressed. It seemed the pudgy crybaby did have a backbone after all.

"Now," Shachi said as he reached for the lights illuminating both the observation room and the area below where everybody had jumped in shock and covered their eyes from the sudden increase in brightness. "Sorry, Albert," he stated reaching for the com system's microphone, sunglasses flashing in the now intense light. "We're a little bit late, but we'll lend a hand if you still want that help." As Shachi talked Penguin walked out the door to the stairwell, and judging the distance and deciding he was good for it, leapt the railing landing easily on the floor below. He cracked his knuckles as he straightened his posture hoping it looked threatening. Not usually a brawler by nature Penguin was never-the-less itching to prove his worth to his crewmates. He had been ever since he'd ended up being practically useless on Lothal. How could he call himself a productive crewmember when he couldn't fight for his nakema?

"No need to worry," Shachi was saying, "by this time Verne's found your sister and swept her off to safety. Any persons who do not want to find themselves blooded up in the next few minutes had best make their way outside in a calm and orderly fashion."

The com clicked off, but Penguin didn't have enough time to see if Shachi had followed him down the stairs yet or not. A few cronies had charged deciding to see if he was truly going to hit back or not. "Left arm of Osiris!" Penguin couldn't help but roar as he punched the first squarely in the jaw sending him flying back into his companions obviously knocked out. "Albert, you better get out of here, buddy. I don't want you caught in the cross fire." He called as he used another attacker's own momentum to send him flying across the room. Just then a streak of metal flashed past his face and Penguin barely managed the jerk back as a length of chain flew past him and then was yanked back to its wielder.

"Well, buddy, I'm thinken' right about now you might wanna worry about yourself a bit."

Penguin cursed as he looked over at the face of the man his friend had called Jonas and Albert had referred to as Mr. Gordan. It was a thin face for all that the mass of black hair had made Penguin originally think he might be bigger than he was, but the way he was wielding the chains left no doubt in Penguin's mind that this man was an opponent to be feared, or at least respected.

"So, you really are willing to fight me over this?" Penguin murmured setting his feet, only to have the man in the studded leather vest laugh.

"Nah, right now I think I'd rather kill that fat bastard. That trick he pulled just wasn't cool," Gordan chuckled, and running past him the man made a break for the partially open loading door Albert had just managed to escape through, chain spinning the entire time. Penguin cursed and followed. He didn't stop to think about the fact that he had just left Shachi behind, or that most of the Black Hawk cronies had also decided to get out of the building for some unknown reason, or that a small bit of metal had just ripped through the sleeve of his boiler suit missing his skin by a fraction of an inch. No, the thought spinning through Penguin's head was that if all Albert had to fight with was the net gun he'd been carrying, the poor guy didn't stand a chance.

-:-:-:-

The surgery went well, it had been interesting, entertaining even, and now the patient was resting comfortably in the medical bay sound asleep as Law finished cleaning and sanitizing the room. Law was pleased. What had started out promising to be a truly awful day had actually turned out yielding some valuable information. Never would he have thought to meet the family of the famous Howard Bell. Not that the family mattered much on their own, but Howard Bell had managed to cause Doflamingo quite a bit of trouble some years ago during that horrible year when Law had been a part of that tyrant's crew, and Law was still rather curious as to how the man had managed it without getting caught. Again, not truly important, but uncovering potentially useful information was by far a better use of his time than trying to get Pops to explain exactly what his son had done to the wiring of the ship. As the mother was asleep that meant seeing if the kid had anything to offer.

He found her sitting at a table in the mess area listening to Bepo explain that he really, truly, was just a minkman, as Mouse and Pops shuffled around in the kitchen. He sat down to begin his interrogation but Jane, having been allowed to watch the surgery, had a number of questions for him instead. While most of her queries had centered on human anatomy and what exactly it had been that had made her mother sick Jane also seemed to be interested in the procedure and why he had done things the way he had done them.

"And what about the blue dome thing?" she asked just when Law was beginning to wonder how many questions she could stuff into her head and if she was really understanding any of his answers. "It just sat there. What was it? What did you use it for?"

"That was the Captain's devil fruit powers," Bepo answered helpfully as he rested his chin on the table.

"That was a safety net," Law replied. "Had anything gone wrong having the room in my spear of influence would have insured my ability to react quickly and get what I needed to control the situation, even if everyone else had panicked." He didn't bother to tell her that the only reason he'd had it up was because she was watching and that they were a part of the Howard family from whom he hoped to get information. He did try to explain that an Appendectomy was a relatively common procedure that he'd preformed a number of times for various crewmembers as he sailed under Ryan Beckett's flag. He'd had no expectation of actually needing it for the actual procedure, but had rather put it up incase either Pops or Mouse had any trouble identifying the instruments he needed. Both the older man and the boy had performed admirably by the way, and Law was already making plans to convince them both to study medicine alongside Shachi and Penguin. True Mouse's reading skills left a great deal to be desired, but the kid was a quick study and Law had every confidence he could at least memorize human anatomy.

"Can you make more than one?" Jane asked curiously, seeming to zone in on the devil fruit ability, "Can you start it with yourself at any point inside besides the middle? Is it true that people who eat devil's fruits can't swim?"

Law sighed, but smiled and answered, "It is correct to say that I can't swim because of the devil's fruit. I can set the room anywhere so long as I am inside it. As for more then one at a time," here Law frowned, "you know, I don't think I've ever actually tried." And then just to see if he could Law brought his hand up sending one small room the length of the table to his left, and attempted a second, also small, to the right with himself at the overlapping section. It worked, but Law felt as though he had created a room a little over twice the size of the first. The strain though light, told him that his ability to create multiple rooms would not only tax his strength, but possibly be limited by how much area they would take up as a whole. Law said as much but Jane only giggled in response.

"That means you just need practice," she grinned at him, "or at least that's what Marme tells me every time I tell her a piece of music is too difficult for me to play on the piano. I need practice and I need to stretch my fingers more." She waved her small hands at him. "So you need practice and to stretch you powers more."

"It's nice how children can make things seems so simple," Bepo commented not bothering to move his head from the table even as his nose twitched in appreciation of whatever Pops was doing in the kitchen.

"Well now, well now, and I thought you the simplest one here," Pops called through the open service window.

"I'm sorry."

-:-:-:-

Shachi saw it all. He saw how the man in the vest first attacked Penguin, shot a wary look at his companion who had picked up what looked like loose washers off a nearby table, and suddenly decided to get outside. He saw how the remaining cronies took a look at the man themselves and decided similarly to leave. Shachi saw those tangled in the net Albert had shot working together, not to untangle themselves, but to get out of the building. And Shachi was watching when the man named Freed took off his jacket and set it aside on a long table, rolled up his sleeves, and somehow bounced one of those washers off the buckle on a thick leather band that encircled his wrist, straight at Penguin who had taken off after the guy with the chains, obviously intent on helping Albert.

The washer soared through the air striking through the right shoulder of Penguin's Boiler suit. fortunately it got nothing but fabric, but Shachi was still pissed. Of all the men he had ever met in is life Penguin had to be the one with the highest sense of honor, and this bastard had just attempted to shoot him in the back.

"Bloody coward," he growled adjusting his sunglasses taking the last few steps down the staircase so he was on the same level as the man, and making sure his hat was firmly on his head. "why don't you try taking on someone who's actually looking at you, Mr. Freed?"

"I'm impressed," Freed stated turning to look at him, that oily smile sliding into place as he pushed his sleeves up further. The long sleeved t-shirt the man had been wearing underneath his leather jacket bore the same symbol as the door outside, but it wasn't the Black Hawk Group insignia Shachi was concerned with. The man had again taken the washers and bounced them off the buckle, this time sending them flying towards Shachi. "You've managed to pick up my name," he drawled as Shachi cursed and rolled aside eyes widening in amassment as the washers didn't roll to a stop on the pavement as he expected, but bounced off that surface as well, this time angling for the ceiling. "you'll pardon me for not knowing yours."

"It's Shachi," Shachi muttered as his eyes traced the path the washers took as they bounced off the ceiling at a variety of angles back to the walls, the floors, any solid stable surface, and kept going. One hit a suspended ceiling lamp, which began to swing with the impact only to knock into another, which immediately stopped and fell harmlessly to the ground. In that instant Shachi understood, and as one hit the ground directly in front of him he stomped on it. When he moved his foot aside there was the washer lying harmlessly on the ground. "You've got some sort of Devil fruit power, Mr. Freed, care to explain?" he asked as he bent down to pick the bit up just to prove there was nothing odd about it."

"You really are very observant." Freed laughed. "All right, I'll let you in on my little secret. I'm a bounce man. Anything I bounce off my body will continue to ricochet off all solid surfaces around it until it meets something of equal or opposite force, or . . ." here he grinned as Shachi his smirk becoming something of pure malice, "it strikes the flesh of a living being." As if to illustrate his point there was a howl from outside as one of the remaining washers bounced out the partially open loading door to hit someone. Fortunately it did not sound like Penguin. "Now that I've explained, Shachi, do you mind telling me what you and your friend are doing here? I find it hard to believe that a couple of perfect strangers would randomly decide to help a fat buffoon like Howard Albert."

"You can blame Penguin for that," Shachi muttered dryly thinking that it really was a very good question. How had he ended up in a mess like this? Oh, yeah, Verne and Penguin had been unable to walk away and leave a maiden in distress. Never mind the fact that none of them had ever really met the girl in question.

"Penguin?" Freed asked raising an eyebrow, "the other young man who was here a moment ago?" he paused and shrugged turning back towards the table where he had set down his jacket. "Tell me, Mr. Shachi, who is your captain? I'd very much like to know who to send your body to when you're dead."

As he turned back to him Shachi's eyes widened in surprise. Instead of the jacket as he expected, Freed had picked up a long belt with what appeared to be a variety of small explosives, fireworks, and like devices attached to it. It looked like catching the bounced items, or even stepping on them as he had the washer, was not going to be an option. Still, Shachi was a former marine, he had faced far worse than this. So it was with a measure of calm that he replied, " then you don't recognize the Jolly Roger on my suit? It belongs to the Heart pirates, captained by Trafalgar Law, the Surgeon of Death."

"The Surgeon of Death?" Freed questioned. "Yes, I do know that name. He is on my wanted list, though I never expected to meet such a small timer here on my own island. Never expected to meet him at all considering Eight million Beri is hardly worth seeking out."

"Eight million? I was pretty sure it'd be more than that by now." Shachi muttered to himself a bit disappointed. True they hadn't been visibly active on Lothal, but after Krocylea . . .

"Perhaps," Freed shrugged and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Reis doesn't get its news regularly, but that's beside the point. When I'm done with you I'll simply deliver your body personally and use it as a chance to capture your captain. Eight million isn't much, but it'll still cover the repairs this place'll need when I'm done."

"Our captain?" Shachi laughed, "if you are ever misfortunate enough to meet our captain, let alone see him in action you'll understand that he might just be one of the most brilliant men to ever live. But all that aside, it doesn't matter what you think your abilities are, what you believe to be an important sum of money, or even if you can in fact take on the captain. Because here and now, you're going down by my hand."

Freed's reaction to that statement was to pull one of the explosives off its belt and backhanded it at Shachi's face.

-:-:-:-

What sounded like a small explosion rocked the inside of the warehouse portion of the factory causing Penguin to look over just as a length of chain shot through where his head had been seconds earlier. "I thought I told you to worry about yourself," Gordan Jonas snapped as he yanked the chain back towards his other hand the heavier link on the end carrying the momentum of the weapon with a great deal of force. "It's not cool to look away from your opponent, especially not when you insisted on the fight in the first place." He brushed a long lock of dark hair out of his face, shooting a rather cocky grin at the few remaining lackeys who were attempting to cheer him on, as he used his other arm and elbow to swing the chain expertly across the front of his body in a figure eight style pattern. The Black Hawk Group's goons whistled and cheered as they watched him work. Penguin was starting to feel as though he'd drawn the short straw at some sort of a sideshow.

Gordan offered the fans a small wave though he did keep the majority of his attention on Penguin who was busy analyzing his opponent for an exploitable opening. "Though I have'ta say that either way you're gonna be joinin' your friend shortly." The man continued as a large quantity of smoke seemed to roll out the partiality open warehouse loading-door. "There're very few people who managed to make it much past the boss's first few techniques, and even fewer who survive his explosives." Just then another explosion sounded from inside, followed by a second, and then a third.

"You were saying?" Penguin grinned as he set his feet, "it looks like Shachi's giving your pal in there a run for his money." But this time Penguin's eyes didn't leave the chain as it spun through the air. He knew from his years of marine training that if he could get within the weapon's range of attack the safer he would actually be. It was a basic rule of physics, not only did the added length of the weapon grant its wielder a longer reach, but the weight on the end insured not only that the far end was spinning with greater momentum, but also greater force. The closer Penguin could get to the pivot point the easier time he'd have in stopping this guy. His timing would have to be perfect though and at the speed his opponent was moving he was seriously beginning to wonder if it was even going to be possible.

In the next moment Gordan struck out snapping the end forwards again this time aiming at Penguin's chest and as he dodged and rolled to the side Penguin realized exactly what his opening was. When the chain was striking for him its end was traveling forward rather than spinning defensively around its wielder. As he came to his feet Penguin watched warily for the second strike he knew was coming and this time dodged by simply pivoting on the balls of his feet, turning in profile as the chain streaked past his chest.

One step, two, and he was rushing forward along the length of the chain as it snapped back, charging Gordan, left fist clench ready to knock the guy off his feet. "Left hand of-" he started, but Gordan was faster. Still mainlining his grip on the end of his chain he managed to bring his other hand in to grab the middle of it wrapping it around Penguin's wrist as he struck, and pulled the blow away from his body. However, Penguin still had enough momentum that he was able to twist with the turn, step in, and throw his elbow into Gordan's jaw. The sunglasses went flying.

The chain around his wrist loosened, Penguin's next attack was a simple side snap kick planted firmly in Gordan's abdomen. Gordan was prepared for it though, even as Penguin kicked out at him the snap in the kick designed to bring his foot back before he could be caught off balance, but as he doubled over gasping for breath Gordan managed to swing the other end of the chain around Penguin's standing leg and, as he fell back from Penguin's kick, the man pulled Penguin's foot out from under him. Both men went sprawling on the pavement.

There was a loud crunch as Penguin landed, and pushing back to his feet he brought with him Gordan's fallen sunglasses, now crushed beyond repair.

"Oh that is not cool, not cool at all," Gordan whined eyeing the broken eye-wear and beginning to swing the chain again, "I'm going to make you pay for that, pipsqueak." Behind them yet another small explosion rocked the warehouse.


	18. When Chaos Ensues

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you all for the favs, follows, and reviews!

* * *

 **Chapter Eighteen**

 **When Chaos Ensues**

Shachi coughed as he rolled under one of the very few remaining worktables as a small firework exploded above him. There was a flash of gunpowder and a spray of red sparks that coated the area along with a loud bang, but his ears were still ringing from the last explosion. Fortunately the table, though only a thin bit of laminated particleboard, was enough to shield him from the worst of the small blast. That and his boiler suit. Shachi had to thank whatever being was currently watching over him repeatedly for the Lothal seamstress's excellent craftsmanship, because the clothing originally designed for protection in the sub's engine and machinery rooms seemed to be somewhat flame resistant. True, it was singed, and there was a small rip in the knee, but generally speaking the suit was doing its job and Shachi was thankful for the added protection.

The smoke cleared and the sparks fizzled out as Shachi rolled out from underneath the table and tried for another charge at his opponent. Freed's devil fruit ability was more than bothersome, especially when one threw the small explosives into the mix. The devil fruit ability insured that the devices would bounce off the warehouse walls until their time was up, but the explosives themselves were small enough to do little more than slightly dent the steel sides of the building if they exploded too close, ensuring that any that came after would still have a surface to bounce off of.

Shachi had originally hoped that one, the man might use up his supply of firecrackers rather quickly, and two they would be easy to dodge, but that was quickly proving to not be the case. Freed was using his explosives sparingly, supplementing them with other items found around the factory area. Washers, nuts, bolts, a pair of scissors, box cutter blades, all of which could do a considerable amount of damage if they hit. He was also playing the angles of the building in an expert manner. Very few things even ran the risk of bouncing out the door.

Speaking of the door Shachi had determined very early on that his best chances of victory lay in getting outside where the walls and solid surfaces were further apart and the angles harder to utilize, but Freed seemed to be saving his strongest explosives for those attempts and each time Shachi failed he was treated to a lecture about cowardice. That was getting really annoying.

Shachi swung a right hook with all his might hoping that it would actually connect with Freed and not bounce back at himself. He was not, however, expecting Freed to dodge the blow. Seconds later Shachi was forced to dance back as the man now threw several crackers at his face, but in spite of it all he was grinning.

"What are you laughing at?" Freed demanded at the sight of the Heart pirate's smile. "Have you not had enough? Perhaps you like the taste of gunpowder. I assure you I do have plenty more. You'll be stuffed full of it by the time I'm done with you."

"No," Shachi answered adjusting his sunglasses his grin only widening. "It's just – " he couldn't help but break off in a little chuckle. "It's just that you just dodged me, which implies that the only things you can bounce are the objects you throw yourself, which mean, that you can in fact, be hit."

Freed frowned at him, "As if your blows could stick to me! Well, whether they do or not I'll still wipe the floor with you, weakling."

"Weakling?" Shachi asked, "Now you've resorting to name calling? That's a bit childish compared to your earlier demeanor. I must have done something to rattle you. Don't worry, I'm sure I can manage it again!" and raising his fist Shachi charged.

"Childish?" Freed roared his eyes widening in rage at the remark and at the fact that Shachi now seemed to have gotten close enough that he once again had to dance back or take a hit. "I'll show you childish!" and he reached for one of the larger explosives he'd been using to keep Shachi from the door launching it at the ceiling. "I'm like rubber and you're like glue anything I throw bounces off the target and explodes next to you."

Shachi didn't have to see the explosive to know that it was going to ricochet directly at him. Pulling his last attack he dove to the side just as the explosive exploded seconds before reaching the ground. The impact was disastrous as it blew apart bits of the concrete flooring and sent both men tumbling end over end. Ears ringing, hat flying, and completely disoriented. Shachi ended up in a heap on top of the table he had earlier tried to take shelter under, flattening it with his weight, sunglasses skittering across the floor, and attempting to roll to his feet even as he saw Freed slam into the far steel wall. "Seriously?" he groaned in disbelief as he pushed himself shakily to his feet. "I knew you were dense, this whole kidnapping scheme of yours proved that from the beginning, but apparently you're even stupider than I gave you credit for. Only a truly incompetent moron catches themselves with their own blast. Maybe you should have spent less time learning to flick washers around and more time actually training."

"Training?" Freed snapped back as he shook himself and attempted twice to stand before finally making it to his feet. "What would you know about training, you . . ." and here he let off a string of vile names that would make even the most crude of sailors blush.

Shachi only smiled and bent to pick up and dust off his hat before settling it back on his head. "If you're going to attempt to insult me you might as well at least try to be creative about it." He laughed, "And if you're trying to imply that I took advantage of your own abilities, well quite frankly I'm flattered that you think I'm up to that level, but not even I would ever have hatched a plan that counted on you being a complete and utter idiot." His grin only widened now. He had rattled the other man, and being caught in his own explosion hadn't helped Freed's mental state either. Shachi had the upper hand now and he knew it. From this point on it shouldn't be too hard to finish things.

"Regardless, you still won't be able to hit me!" Freed roared, and all composure completely gone. This time he rushed Shachi.

Shachi only waited settling his feet. This was what he had been aiming for, this was what would settle the matter. Shachi had multiple reasons to want to settle the matter, multiple reasons to see it through to the end, but up to this point Freed's only motivation had been self defense and to stroke his own ego. There might never have been a fight at all if Freed had simple originally chosen to walk away. But now, as he rushed Shachi, Shachi knew it had finally come down to one thing. Resolve.

Shachi settled his feet and waited, counting his opponent's steps, judging the distance, gauging the momentum as Freed forgot about his Devil's fruit powers and wound back for a punch of his own. As his running carried him into position and his fist shot forward, Shachi took a single step. Right foot sliding forward putting his core in profile to the other man, Shachi allowed the punch to continue brushing past his chest, nearly catching on the front of his boiler suit as he brought his left hand up to catch the man's wrist in his palm pushing Freed's arm up. Shachi's right hand came down from above and with both he suddenly jerked down, spun on the balls of his feet and ended with both hands at his left hip.

It was Freed's own momentum that finished the job. Suddenly pulled even harder in the direction he'd already been traveling his feet were jerked out from under him. Freed's body had no choice but to continue on it's previously decided path of trajectory even as Shachi's hold pulled down. The end result was his body tried to go in two directions at once. He was flipped over his own shoulder and slammed into the concrete, the second hard blow in as many minutes leaving him dazed. Groaning he tried to roll to his feet, but Shachi wasn't done yet.

"If it had been just me I wouldn't have cared," he started as he walked around to face the man. "I never would have tried to interfere in your job, and I might have even overlooked the insult to our captain because I know he would have just laughed it off." His smile and his clinched a fist were enough to make the man try to slide backwards ignoring the sudden ripping sound that came as he snagged his leather pants on a broken table leg. "You however made a very bad mistake. You started off the fight ordering the beating of an apparently unarmed man, and then fired on another who was running away from you." Freed had finally made it to his feet, but he was still staggering backward. "You not only tried to kill one of my nakema, but you tried to strike him from behind and that, that I cannot forgive!" Shachi's fist socked the staggering man square in the jaw. Freed dropped like a brick in water. "I've got news for you pal," Shachi growled, "that one hit you."

Turning on his heels Shachi strode through the destroyed factory towards the front warehouse, ignoring all the damage around him. His booted feet crunched over the glass of broken light bulbs, he walked past the destroyed tables and overturned shelves, and pausing only long enough to pick up his hat and miraculously unbroken sunglasses from the floor, made his way towards the partially open loading area door.

There was still fighting going on outside, he mused as he settled the shades onto his nose, but he had no doubt that whatever was going on Penguin and Verne would finish it. Shachi reached up a hand to adjust his hat as he ducked under the loading door and stepped out into the brilliant light. The was a loud plop and a glob of yellow paint splattered onto the pavement in front of his feet as a call of "look out below," echoed from somewhere above him. Following the trajectory of the falling paint Shachi looked up to see a widely beaming Verne saluting him brush in hand. The man was suspended from the roof by rope and harness, the yellow paint being used to cover the front of the building in what was obviously an absurdly large Heart Pirate Jolly Roger. As he watched Verne returned to his work and completed the very last stroke of his crew's emblem.

-:-:-:-

Penguin, meanwhile, was beginning to get highly annoyed. It had less to do with the fact that every time he managed to get a hit on Gordan Jonas the man would somehow or other managed to get Penguin back outside the parameter of the chain, and Penguin would have to start the whole process over again, than it did the fact that Gordan's cheering section had grown.

Oh the spectators weren't really a threat, at least Penguin didn't think the group seemingly comprised of workmen and farmers were, but they were distracting to say the least. They seemed to cheer for each man by turn as if they didn't care who won the fight as long as they were entertained, and while Gordan didn't seemed to be concerned over whether or not they got in the way, Penguin was. Of course the first time Gordan had nearly hit one with the chain the whole group had backed up nearly twenty feet.

"Come on, Mr. Pirate, sock him in the nose!" one man, a thickset fellow in a butcher's apron, called out.

"Ha! he's going to have to get past that chain first!" another replied. Penguin was beginning to get the idea that nobody in this place actually liked the Black Hawk Group and while they originally seemed to fear the men in question the moment the crowd had realized that Penguin actually had a fighting chance the whole atmosphere had changed. Penguin had gone from protecting Albert (who had long since escaped to the back of the crowd hoping to find his sister as Penguin had informed the boy that she should be safe with Verne) to feeling like he was competing in some sort of sport or popularity competition. Gordan seemed to feel the same way though, unlike Penguin, he was basking in the attention of the public, waving at various people and shooting a number of grins and thumbs up. Gordan's distraction with the mob had provided Penguin with a number of openings, but unfortunately the crowds distraction factor worked both ways.

"Hey, Mr. Painter dude, you missed a spot!" Someone called out, and Penguin shifted his attention just enough to see Verne suspended against the side of the building hard at work painting their Jolly Roger. In that instant he also saw Shachi step out into the open adjusting his hat against the sun.

That brief instant was enough to give Gordan time to launch an attack, but even though it was a near miss nothing could steal the satisfied smile from Penguin's face as he leapt aside. "Hey, Shachi," he called out clamping a hand down on his head to keep his hat in place as he rolled coming up behind his opponent and kicking out against him. "You finish your fight?" the kick was easily deflected and Penguin sent flying, but it hardly mattered because when he saw Shachi, Gordan seemed to freeze in place his whirling chain suddenly losing momentum.

"Yeah," Shachi called back with a jaunty wave, "and Mr. Freed won't be waking up for a while." Penguin could hear sudden whispers spreading through the crowd as the people around them soaked up the news. Freed down? Knocked out by a pirate? Would their island finally be rid of the Black Hawk group? Suddenly it was ok to take a formal side in this match. Suddenly they were willing to choose someone to root for, and suddenly Penguin was going to be their hero. Penguin sighed as somebody offered him a free meal at their restaurant if he could beat Gordan, and Shachi's grin only made things worse.

"Will you hurry up and finish things before the Captain finds out?" the other man called, "I want him to be in a good mood when we return to the ship. Look Verne's done and Albert and the girl are safe!" and Penguin's eye traced the direction Shachi was pointing until he could see two curry haired heads up on the factory roof next to Verne who had just climbed back up.

"Yeah, Mr .Pirate," Someone called out, "Mr. Gordan doesn't have a chance against you!"

"You've already lasted this long!"

"Surely you can finish what you've started."

Looking at the crowd Penguin could easily see that any of the Black Hawk Group Lackeys who had been present had either long disappeared, or been completely restrained by the town's people. This wasn't right, damn it, he'd gotten involved because he'd wanted to help someone in trouble, not because he wanted to be a hero or save the day or anything. He'd just been doing what needed to be done.

Glancing around he noticed a flash as someone in the crowd began taking pictures. "Great, just great," he grumbled as he pulled the bill of his hat down lower to hide his face. "Well, the sooner I finish this the sooner they can move on to something better to watch." And Penguin shifted his attention back to Gordan.

Gordan looked positively shell shocked. Not only had he just learned that his boss had been defeated by a rookie pirate, but his beloved crowd had turned their cheering against him. His smile gone, his chest deflated Gordan turned on Penguin with as much fury as he had ever had. The chain swung in an arch, and snapped back and forth with sharp jerks and Penguin dodged to one side and then the other gauging its reach and calculating how to get inside. Shachi was right. He needed to end this quickly. That meant this time he had to manage to take the chain out of the equation so that even if he did get knocked back it wouldn't be a total restart.

Catching a pattern to the swings Penguin set himself, and this time when the end lashed out at him he didn't dodge, but raised his right arm and let the weighted end of the chain catch and wrap around. It hit with enough force that he knew he would have a nasty bruise in the morning, but that was beside the point. With his free hand Penguin caught an extra length of the chain and began pulling himself along it, winding up what he could collect around his arm as he went, preventing Gordan from using it further. The crowd cheered their roaring filling his ears, but Penguin ignored it. Well except for the "why didn't you do that sooner!" that someone in the crowd shouted at him.

As he worked his way along the chain gathering it us as he went Gordan's face grew paler and paler. It seemed the man was nothing short of a schoolyard bully, nothing without his main tool of intimidation. Penguin felt a flash of disgust. Soon enough the majority of the weapon was his and Gordan dropped the end he'd been holding. "No, I'm sorry, don't hurt me please!" he cried falling to his knees hands over his head defensively, but Penguin knew better that to fall for that particular bate. Taking the length of chain and tossing it aside, for he would not fight an unarmed man with a weapon of his own, he prepared himself for the lunge he knew was to come.

Sure enough the moment the chain was gone Gordan sprang back to his feet launching himself at Penguin's midsection. Penguin shifted as Gordan charged. The chain really had been the most dangerous part of the other man's fighting style. Slipping the punch easily Penguin brought a hand around to yank on the back of Gordan's studded leather vest, as his other hand curled around to rest on the man's abdomen and Penguin both pulled and threw him into the ground. "Geb Slam." And all Gordan was able to do was stare up at him, dazed. The area erupted into chaos as the spectators cheered and began flooding the area rushing him and Shachi, intending to give the two pirates thanks for what they had been too afraid to even try themselves. Penguin felt sick. This was their island, their home. They should have been the ones to take on the Black Hawk Group and save the girl. They should have protected one of their own. Instead they had sat around waiting for someone to do it for them.

The cheers and clapping actually making him want to scream that they were wrong Penguin turned towards Shachi wondering if he could get past him in through the door and hide inside the building, but something about the look on his crewmates face made him look around. Turning slowly Penguin easily made out the form approaching behind him. Letting his gaze drift upward he found himself meeting the eyes of his stern, but approving looking, captain.

-:-:-:-

Law had been expecting chaos. He had been expecting confusion, and he had been expecting a certain amount of running from the law on this island. He had not been expecting to find his crew being hailed as heroes. He mentally kicked himself because he should have. Two of them had been former marines after all, he should have known better than to have expected them to stay out of it. But even when he had known, when he had realized what was about to happen without him as he prepared to perform the surgery, he had trusted his crew. He was not disappointed.

He had originally come into town alone in search of Jane's siblings. Whatever else happened they needed to be informed of their mother's condition and preparations needed to be made to move the woman home. However when he arrived it had seemed the entire populace of the town had been streaming for the poor sector and congregating outside what appeared to be and old factory with an attached warehouse. Law had followed, and was now glad he had. He had seen what he had needed to see. His crew could handle themselves, do what needed to be done without him holding their hands. Any man who did otherwise would not have lasted long under his command, of that he was certain.

Raising a hand he pointed at the roof where he could easily make out Verne watching alongside two others. Their curly haired heads indicated that they were probably the siblings he'd originally been looking for. Law then beckoned to them and pointed at the ground in front of him. The meaning was clear. "You, here, now." Law could make out Verne's salute before the man turned and began shooing the others away from the edge, probably towards the roof access and the stairway back inside the building. They'd probably reappear at ground level in a few minutes, but that would give Law plenty of time to admire his crew's handy work.

"I have to admit I'm impressed," he muttered as he gazed up at the giant yellow painted version of his jolly roger that now adorned the front of the building. "You have not only single handedly destroyed the body of one of the most notorious bounty hunter groups in the area, but their reputation and credibility as well. When they word gets out that they not only lost to the crew of a rookie pirate, but that their base was demolished," as was evidenced by the various dents in the building's steel walls and the blown out windows, "and their hostages taken right out from under their noses while their comrades ran and the town's folk did nothing but watch," here some of the spectators began looking at him somewhat nervously, "I seriously doubt these men, any of them, will be able to find any form of work again. At least not in this field. You've done well." Penguin and Shachi both looked relieved if a bit beat up. Law sighed as he began analyzing the wounds he could see. Penguin definitely had a bruised arm and he was fairly certain that Shachi sported at least one black eye behind his shades. "Though next time I would appreciate it if you would warn me before you decide to play hero. I would have known which medical supplies to have prepared."

"Aye, Captain,"

"Yes, Sir," the two chorused. There was a slight crunching of broken glass and Law turned his attention to Verne who was leading a very pale if relieved looking curly haired girl, who was actually somewhat pretty once one got past the horribly shocking pink color of her dress, and a plump young man wearing thick glasses that made his eye easily look twice their size and a bow tie. Verne's bandana was stained with yellow paint as if he had used it to wipe his hands and then put it back around his head.

"Captain," Verne began looking somewhat abashed but also as if he fully believed in the validity of his own actions. Law cut him off.

"I already have a fairly good idea what's happened here," he started. "The lot of you overheard Howard-ya," here he looked at the slightly frightened looking young man in the boy tie, "asking for help, presumably in rescuing his sister, and decided to get involved. You proceeded to work out a plan that would negate the eventuality that the same kidnapping tactic would be attempted in the future, and acted accordingly. What I would like to know is how you figured out that the town's strained relationship with the bounty hunters would allow you to act unhindered." Both Verne and Penguin looked thoroughly confused, but Shachi sighed.

"It was relatively obvious when we saw Albert here," and he clapped a hand on the bow-tied young man's shoulders, "wandering around town asking for help calling the marines. Nobody bothered to lift a hand to do so much as call the marines, but then nobody turned him back over to the Black Hawk Group as a troublemaker either. If he had just been begging for money I'd have understood the reluctance, but calling the marines. For all any of them knew that could have led to a battle taking place on this island and had they been favorable to the bounty hunters they should have locked Albert up to keep him from causing trouble. But they didn't. It was almost as if they wanted a fight to happen." Shachi paused, "Captain, may I ask how . . ."

"I knew?" Law grinned, "I received a visit from Jane-ya this morning." Albert and his other sister both looked somewhat surprised. "Her mother was Ill and she required medical attention. Everything is fine now, she'll recover, but Jane-ya is a bit of a talker." Law smiled, "come to think of it she was still talking when I left. Bepo is a very patient minkman." As he spoke Law noticed a rather nervous looking wiry fellow approaching him. The man rung his hands and then began to fiddle with a medal of office that hung around his neck. Law sighed. It seemed that no matter how excited the town's people were they were not, in the end, going to be throwing the Heart Pirates a celebratory party.

Law was right. Oh nobody was truly hostile towards the Heart Pirates, but the town had lived so long trying to avoid the conflict between pirate and marine that they weren't truly welcoming either. The man with the medal of office around his neck had been very thorough in his conversation with Law. What the Heart Pirates had done to the Black Hawk Group would be accepted and even praised in the town for the bounty hunters had caused no end of trouble the last few years they had resided on the island. However the Black Hawk Group had protected the island in their own little way and after what had just happened Reis was going to have to trade in that protection for something else. Namely the marines. Markus Freed and Jonas Gordan would be locked up into the local prison and the mayor of Reis would give Law and his crew twenty-four hours to vacate the island before the marines were called. The mayor also kindly agreed to deliver the Lothal file Law had kept to the appropriate authorities for him. Law was a man of his word after all, and he had promised Monique Jacquelyn he would send that file, or rather threatened her with it.

Law could easily tell that Shachi and Penguin both were pleased with the outcome. A marine presence should protect the Howard family provided the marines themselves never learned of the connection between them and the mysterious communications engineer, Howard Bell. It should prove easy enough. They could go by their first names and so as long as nobody let the secret slip all would be fine. That and there had been some talk of relocating the family under a different family name after the mother recovered fully from her surgery. Pops and Verne had both suggested Lothal and even promised a letter of introduction to the ship building company Pencroff and Sons'. Mary had readily accepted on behalf of herself and her daughters. Albert had half-heartedly wondered something about finding his father.

Now the small family was holed up in the submarine's medical bay, making plans and packing lists, and Pops was off in town arranging for some sort of carriage to take the Howard family back to town. Law had been very stern about Mary taking it easy until her recovery was complete, and one of the local doctors had agreed to take her into his care until she was fully healed. The man in question was apparently her second cozen. Penguin and Shachi were busy repairing the wiring Verne had torn apart that morning while Verne had been regulated to something of a gopher partly in retaliation for causing the problem in the first place and partly because Penguin and Shachi were both so sore from their fights that afternoon that both had pointedly refused to run all over the ship just to see in the com system was back to normal in the various rooms. Bepo was in the small library pouring over some new sea charts the others had found for him, and Mouse was there too, practicing his reading with the bear-mink. Law had some doubts over the suitability of Bepo being the best teacher, but as Penguin had pointed out, if the Heart Pirates chore boy was not with Bepo than he would be peppering "Penguin-aniki and uncle Shachi" with a variety of questions about engineering that would only distract the two from their work. Besides the minkman and the boy had been discussing something about a log pose and how necessary it would really be on the Grand Line when they had Bepo's natural sense of direction to navigate them. Law decided to leave well enough alone. If he had to put his foot down and make the decision for them he would, but he preferred to trust his crew and see what they came up with.

"Mr. Heart Captain, sir," a small voice chirped from the doorway to the medical bay as he passed it after checking on the men in the control room on the deck below.

"Jane-ya," Law answered politely wondering if she was about to talk his ear off again.

"Will you, will you take my brother to sea with you?" she asked looking up at him here eyes wide an innocent, "I know you're pirates and what not, but he really wants to find our father and . . . and well I thought he could come with you. He'd be really useful, really he would. He can invent anything you want and take care of den den mushi, and hijack calls and –" she broke off as Law raised a hand.

"If he wants to go I will take him," he answered the girl, "but the decision has to be his."

"Yes, sir. I understand!" she beamed at him and disappeared back into the medical bay. Law only shook his head and continued up the next few levels to the mess. Night was falling and Law had a feeling he should try to prepare something to eat no matter what Shachi said about his usefulness in the kitchen. But when he got there he stopped short.

"Lorelei-ya?" he questioned as the girl turned from stirring what appeared to be a large pot of soup.

"Oh?" he smiled at him, "Shachi-san asked if I would mind. He already had everything put together so really all I had to do was keep it from burning. And I don't mind. After all they did for us-" Law nodded and sat down on one of the bar stools that pulled away from the counter thinking pensively.

"How old are you?" he asked after a moment or two of silence.

"Sixteen," she answered without a moment's hesitation.

"And how old is Howard-ya?"

"You mean Albert?" she asked him. "Eighteen. I know he doesn't look like much, but he's very smart and very reliable, and I'm sure he'll slim down eventually. That or it'll all turn to muscles. Oh, and his eyesight isn't half so bad as he lets on sometimes so if you're worried about that don't be, but, Trafalgar-san, will you take my brother with you?"

Law had to blink at this repeat question from yet another member of the Howard family, but he smiled and only partly because he had already given his word. "He hasn't asked yet," he stated simply.

"Oh he will," she replied cheekily returning to the soup, "He might be roundabout about it though. Start off finding something you all need that he can make for you, or something like that. It's how he usually operates."

Almost as soon as she had spoken the young man in question wandered into the mess hall. In his hands was a large box that Law recognized as being from the radio room. The young man's face was beet red, whether from embarrassment or anger Law couldn't quite tell, but his eyes were wide behind his glasses and his lower lip trembled above his small neck and rigid bow tie.

"What is this?" he hissed in horror as he set the box on the bar. Law rose from his seat to peer inside and then turned a frown on the Howard boy.

"They look like den den mushi to me." He said dryly.

"Three of them." Albert stated pointedly.

"Yes, three baby den den mushi," Law repeated. "One red, one yellow, and one green." The little yellow den den crawled towards him and Law lifted it out of the box and lightly began to scratch the top of its head.

"Three den den mushi in this little tiny box and only those two little dishes to keep them happy." Albert confirmed.

Law frowned at him, but quickly remembered Jane informing him that her brother could care for den den mushi and Lorelei similarly telling him that the young man might request to join the crew in a very roundabout manner. "What?" he asked fighting back a smile. Law had a feeling he knew where this was going and decided to play along. For a short amount of time at least. "They have food."

"Yes," Albert's lip quivered nervously, "but not nearly enough water, and their bedding hasn't been changed recently, and they could have more room in this box, and they could use a bit of time outside when the weather's nice . . . "

The little yellow den den stretched its head against Law's finger smiling contentedly and obviously contradicting everything the young man had just said. "Well then, Howard-ya," Law forced a grimace as he looked down at it. "If you feel my care of my den den mushi is so obviously lacking in quality, then you can join my crew and they can become your responsibility."

Albert seemed to freeze obviously having expecting this conversation to take considerably more time than it had. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He grinned ecstatically. From the kitchen Lorelei giggled.

The crew in general were very pleased to have Albert aboard. Shachi clapped the young man on the back, Penguin nodded in approval and Verne asked if he played poker. Even Bepo joined in the celebration informing that man that since he was new he'd have to take the bear-mink's orders. "Since when do you order anyone around?" Shachi roared at him causing Bepo to immediately apologize.

The following day was filled with a flourish of activity, the repairs were completed, the restocking finished, the Howard family returned safely to their home, and Albert's belongings collected. After a heartfelt goodbye from his family and a rather shocking showing of well wishers from the town, the Heart Pirates put the island of Reis to their rudder and sailed away this time making their destination Port Rose. The last island before Reverse Mountain and the Grand Line.


	19. Port Rose: The City of Bounty

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Huge thank you to everyone for the favs, follows, and reviews! It's been really encouraging to know people enjoy the story enough to want to continue reading it! Hugs for everyone!

* * *

 **Chapter Nineteen**

 **Port Rose: The City of Bounty**

Port Rose. Penguin had never really been there but he knew enough to be impressed by just the sight of it when they arrived several days after leaving Reis. Albert had explained at length how the Island had supposedly started out as a small port and trading community and gradually over time was built up into a massive city that covered the entire island. It was called Port Rose because the initial city plan had called for the city to be built into the shape of a compass rose and as the city had grown it had maintained that form. Each cardinal point of that compass maintained its own dock (Law had ordered them to make their way to the south side) and the rest was a sprawling city of shops and work yards, residential areas and business complexes alike. The city itself surrounded a large palace complex at the heart of the city where it was said the governor lived. Albert had tried to explain to him how history had said the island once had a king though the monarchy had long since fallen apart, but Penguin had been paying too much attention to spiraling towers of the palace he could see jutting above the city. It was a wondrous sight really. Penguin had the feeling that any sailor who could keep that tower in sight would never be lost again.

"Penguin, how close are we to port?" Shachi's voice echoed from the intercom. True the other man and the bear-mink were perfectly capable of navigating from the control room, but there was also something to be said for having a pair of eyes topside. Right now Penguin was that pair of eyes.

Penguin shifted from where he had been leaning against the doorframe on the topmost deck of the sub across from the Captain's quarters, and reached across to press the com button. "Maybe a mile, max. Bare a little to starboard."

"Don't order me around," he heard Bepo mutter a few seconds later. "And I'm a minkman."

"What? Bepo he wasn't ordering you to do anything?" Shachi's confused voice echoed over the com.

"He said, Bear, a little to starboard," Bepo grumbled in response.

"Oh good– " Penguin could easily imagine the look Shachi was giving their furry companion right about now. He'd seen it directed at various raw recruits a number of times. Usually for a stupid comment or question. The problem here was that Bepo was literally a bear-minkman and so the mistake was entirely understandable. "Bepo, bare. b.a.r.e. Bare, as in to turn or shift direction. He wasn't giving you an order, he was just saying we need to head to the right a bit."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"I'll try to be more clear next time," Penguin said over the com, and then quickly hit the mute button so he could laugh without being overheard.

It wasn't much longer before they had steered the Acanthuridae into the South side port and found an available dock, but as Penguin watched the flow of traffic over the boardwalk he had to express surprise. There was something odd about this. Penguin had spent some time on civilian docks before and he was used to the coming and going of fishermen and dock workers, the rush of sailors and movements of freight haulers moving goods. What Penguin had not expected to see was the wide array of merchants and salesmen setting up booths or walking around all hawking their wares.

"For you, Sir." One man called up to him waving what seemed to be a hanger full of shirts. "I have red and blue, I even have yellow to match your ship, and today only if you buy two for 20,000 Beri, I'll give you a third at half price!" Penguin choked. 20,000 beri for two shirts? That made each one 10,000. It was ridiculous. All right so he had known Lieutenant Rodgers to pay close to that for designer brands, but the shirts the man was holding were obviously not designer. Not sold on the docks like this, and certainly not waved around in the open sea air that smelled of salt, brine, and fish.

"Ohhh," Penguin heard Albert mutter somewhere behind him as the younger man made his way out onto the deck brushing Penguin aside as he moved his much larger girth through the door. "I'd heard rumors of this, but I didn't expect it to actually be true, not here at least."

"What?" Penguin questioned wondering what was happening, what he was seeing, "what's going on, on this island?" As he spoke, and with the sub safely docked, the rest of the crew came out on deck.

"Oh well, oh well, you'll learn soon enough." Pops put in walking out the hatch and twirling one end of his long mustache between his figures. "Though it is fortunate we restocked everything on Reis. There was a reason I was willing to pay so much for the Black-seed oil after all." His smile was more one of a father patiently teaching his children about the facts of life rather than a crew member who knew something the others didn't and was gloating. That smirk was reserved for his son who quickly followed his father out the door.

"You mean you don't know?" Verne laughed as he heard Penguin's question, while Shachi who came directly behind him only shrugged. Completely surprised at not only his crewmates' attitudes, but their lack of a providing proper answer to the question Penguin turned his eyes on his captain who only smiled as he looked out over the chaotic marketplace attitude of the docks.

-:-:-:-

Law had other things to worry about than the chaos that was Port Rose at the moment. Just when he was about to explain to Penguin and Shachi that he too had heard stories and what those stories were, Bepo and Mouse appeared on deck ignoring the conversation around them and arguing vehemently. Now Bepo was usually so apologetic and Mouse so quiet that the fact that these two were arguing was something to take note of, never mind that they were arguing with each other.

"Penguin-aniki," Mouse whined upon spotting his favorite human member of the crew, "tell Bepo that I'm right and we need a log pose for the Grand Line!"

"I still say we ask the captain," Bepo rumbled a note of certainty in his voice.

"Ask me what?" Law asked and both parties jumped.

"Well, you see . . ." Mouse started off but Bepo spoke over him.

"Mouse says we need a special navigational instrument for the Grand Line. He says none of your usual human methods will work to navigate with." Bepo explained sulkily. "But I'm a minkman," he continued, "I know what direction I'm going, and I can smell it when the weather will change and –"

"But he can't be awake all the time!" Mouse protested, "the book I've been practicing reading with, Brag Men, it explains all about how the weather and currents can change in a second's notice. Even if Bepo doesn't need this log pose thing the rest of us will!"

"Brag Men is nothing but myth and legend," Verne scoffed.

"Actually, Captain," Shachi jumped into the conversation, "I can confirm some of those stories. Even if Bepo never uses the thing I would feel better having a Log Pose on board."

"Are there any other mentions of this Log Pose aside from Brag Men?" Law asked even though he already knew the answer.

"Yes, Captain," Bepo hung his head getting the point, "I'm sorry."

"All right," Law sighed, "Here's what we're going to do. Pops, Albert, you two stay here with the submarine. I don't particularly trust leaving it alone being this near so many other ships. Mouse, Bepo, you two search out a Log Pose. Don't buy anything, just see if you can find the best price. If half the stories I've heard about this island are true things are going to be a bit unreasonable. Verne, you go with them."

"Great I get to baby-sit the kid and the bear," Verne muttered, but he said the words with a smile on his face so Law ignored him.

"I'm not a bear," Bepo snapped, but only half-heartedly in a way that implied he knew Vern was only teasing.

"Shachi, Penguin, you two are with me," Law continued. " We're going to see what information we can dig up on this island's situation, anything in the Grand Line, and possibly find a News Coo. I'm tired of not knowing reliably what's going on in the world around me. Anyone who has one should keep a weapon close on hand," Law added the last bit as he lifted his nodachi to his shoulder.

No one really argue with him though Verne and Bepo did have a short conversation about which one of them was going to be in charge. Bepo was claiming seniority while Verne stated he had more experience with city culture. Surprisingly it was a single glare from Shachi that put an end to it, and soon after each group had claimed a den den mushi and headed out about their assigned tasks.

Law tucked the little yellow Den den, which had been almost annoyingly insistent about going with him, into the brim of his hat as they walked Penguin and Shachi flanking him on either side. "You know Albert has named that one Kiiro?" Penguin commented as they walked. Law only looked at him. "And he's named the other two Midori and Aka."

"I suppose I should be thankful then, that he's taking his job seriously," was Law's only response.

"He's a good kid, Captain," Shachi replied, "and a genius when it comes to communications electronics. He had Verne's wiring mess corrected almost before I could finish explaining what had happened. And when we explained how the rest of the submarine worked he actually understood it. Kid'll be a good hand to have on board."

"Kid?" Penguin questioned, "will you stop talking like that, Shachi, you're making me feel old and I'm really not that much older than you anyway."

"You've only got a year on me."

"Then maybe I should start calling you squirt. What about you, Captain? You think age makes any difference?"

"I think a person should be judged more on the age they act then the age they are. I've met more than my fair share of adults that acted like five year olds."

"Wow, Captain," Penguin whistled appreciatively, "that must make you ancient!"

Law stopped walking, suddenly causing both Penguin and Shachi to pass him. Both men stopped in an instant and Law was pleased to see that Penguin's face suddenly looked a bit pale. Shachi remained unreadable. He let them wait a minute before giving a chuckle and shaking his head ruefully. "I suppose I walked right into that one didn't I?"

"Yeah, Captain, I believe you did," Shachi agreed smiling right along with him, "But judging by Penguin's face I'd say you got the last laugh in the end."

"Sorry," Penguin muttered, but Law only grinned wider and slapped the man's shoulder.

"Just don't dish out what you can't take back. Come on I think I see a news office at the end of the block."

Truth be told Law was actually feeling happy at the prospect that his crew was beginning to feel comfortable enough to joke with him. He'd never really thought of himself as a harsh taskmaster. He simply expected to be obeyed. If his crew could have a good time and enjoy their jobs while getting what needed to be done, done, well who was he to complain. Besides he'd yet to meet a captain that really wanted to be left alone by their crew. He may be the authority figure, but they were all family in the end. At least he hoped so.

Sometime later Law had to admit that he was easily as boggled by the city as Penguin had been when they first arrived. Not only were the stories true and all the prices absurdly outrageous, but it quickly became apparent why the docks had been so full of merchants and traders. The city's currency, while generally speaking used the same money as the rest of the world, had been so manipulated by inflation that a single beri on this island was nearly worthless. What had cost 500 beri on Reis had nearly doubled in price here. The people on the docks had not been town folk, but other merchants who knew that even selling at double an items worth their goods would still be far cheaper than buying anything from the locals. The local people seemed fine. They had lived this way for years, they were used to it, but any outsider who needed to buy anything on this island would very quickly find themselves in trouble, especially those who needed to resupply.

Law felt slightly sick. He was beginning to think that even the poorest resident of this island who moved away to nearly any other island in North Blue would quickly find themselves living like a king, and Yet Law could tell by their clothing, their shops, the appearance of their health that the locals were barely getting by. The one thing the stories didn't say, the one thing he couldn't figure out, and the question he had to ask was why? Who was profiting from this?

"Even if they're barely getting by at least they seem to have found something to celebrate," Shachi muttered looking around the block they were on. There were streamers banners and signs hanging off various buildings all seeming to advertise some sort of festival, though of what Law wasn't to clear. "Exhibition Week" meant nothing to him and he was considering stopping long enough to talk to one of the locals when he saw a small shop across the way with a display in the window that indicated it had exactly what he wanted.

"There's the News Coo station, come on," and Law raised his nodachi against his shoulder and strode out into the street battling traffic nearly the whole way.

The shop in question was a small print shop selling a variety of magazines, books, and local papers at a price nobody elsewhere would even reasonably pay. In one corner sat a very dejected and lonely looking Coo. Fortunately for the Heart Pirate the News Coo services prices were solid across the board and rose only when the subject of delivery sailed too far away from a base of operations, or became too difficult to find over a long period of time. Law knew that both were easily possible when one lived a sailing lifestyle, but most islands did have a Coo post so the highest price he would ever have to pay should be only when they had sailed to the farthest point between two.

As he looked over the registration form the clerk bustled over. "You seriously want'ta sign up for the news Coo, young'un?" She was a thickset woman of middle years, with a grizzly voice, "I've got far better papers to sell 'en that trash."

Law suddenly knew why the Coo looked like Bepo on a bad day. "I'm afraid I'm not a local of this island," Law explained calmly, "and I intend to sail on fairly soon. What I need is a news service and not a one-time paper, though if you have a recent copy of the World News-"

"Sold out this morning," the woman frowned at him though Law could see a stack of the paper in question sitting behind the counter. He didn't press the point though, it wasn't worth potentially getting thrown out of the shop. The woman however had already pulled out a clipboard and was busily filling in the portion of information that would get her shop a bit of commission. Law nodded in understanding. If the Coo's prices were standard then so was the commission and on this island, well that commission would be worth practically nothing. It took very little time for him to complete the papers, hand over the normal sum of money and wish the woman good day. The woman shooed the Coo out of her store with a scowl, though Penguin was kind enough to hold the door for it, and the bird flew off in a rush to deliver their order. Law and his men were no less quick to leave.

They walked a while longer, poking around the town, searching out news, but as noon came and went all three men were beginning to wish that they could either find something useful, or head back to the ship.

"Captain," Shachi ventured eventually, "why don't we try one of the local pubs? We're fairly close to the east dock now and I've got a feeling that the establishments that cater to the sailing folk might not only have a bit better price on a drink, but also be more willing to talk to the patrons who buy them."

Law nodded in agreement at the suggestion and motioned for Shachi to lead the way. He and Penguin followed close behind, one man lost in thought as he analyzed the town, the other absently muttering under his breath about the different bones found in the human hand just in case the captain randomly tried to quiz him. When Law snapped out of his thoughts and realized what exactly Penguin was rambling about he had to smile. It seemed the other man had been serious when he'd asked Law to teach him field medicine. So far Penguin had been a good student. Better in some ways than Law himself had been. For one thing the man never tried to argue with his instructor.

Sooner than he expected Shachi was standing in the middle of a street staring up at a large sign with peeling paint and the words "The Dog's Den" scrawled across it in what looked like a child's handwriting. "The place looks shabby enough." Shachi muttered and promptly strolled through the door. Law followed pleased with his crewman's choice of a pub in which to gather information. Had Shachi chosen even a semi reputable looking place Law would have had to have a word with him. Information flowed freely with the exchange of coin and drink, and nowhere else was coin and drink so easily exchanged then at a pub with prices cheap enough to cater to the masses. Cheap prices indicated that profit went to the owner and not building maintenance.

The proprietor of the Dog's Den was a tall, if somewhat chubby, man with a ready smile and a bit of a nervous tick. "Three of whatever your most popular brew is," Law stated pulling out his wallet and not even bothering to look at the price before he took a sip of what the man brought over as the Heart Pirates sat down at the bar. Deciding the drink was in fact palatable Law handed over several large beri notes and tried not to wince at the very little change he got back. "If I may ask," Law questioned after another long drought, "what is this Exhibition Week I've been hearing about all over town?"

"Ah that," the proprietor chuckled, " well I suppose sailors such as yourselves wouldn't know that. Every year about this time the Tower of History or rather the governor's mansion is opened for five days free to the public. A paying patron can of course view it with a reservation, but most of us can't afford the cost, so the opening of the tower has become something of a citywide party. It won't open until tomorrow morning, but the spirit of the thing has had everybody hyped up for the past couple days. It also draws in a great number of tourists so our businesses tend to get double or even triple or usual custom." The proprietor grinned. "That's part of the reason I was able to lower my prices this week."

"Well I thank you for the discount," Law murmured raising his glass.

The proprietor smiled and turned just as Penguin asked, "The Tower of History? Forgive me, I'm not from these parts, what is it?"

"Ah," The man grinned, "now that is the question isn't it." The Proprietor leaned against the counter and lowered his tone. "The governor of this island, Jaami Toller-sama, has a rather large collection of historical artifacts that have found their way to this island. He claims that by using our tax money to purchase these items he is making an investment to secure our future and the future of our children. He says that items are harder to steal than money from a bank, though they're kept under very high security, and he says that should the need ever arise he could sell them to bring money back to the island. You can imagine that not many of us are too happy with this arrangement, but the punishment for speaking out is far more unpleasant than letting him do as he likes. If something were to go wrong things might change, but . . ." The man shrugged and straightened. "He manages to purchase something new every year. This year it's a platinum based Log Pose that rumor says has sailed around the world with some famous pirate crew. I can't remember which one, but it should be interesting to see."

The proprietor was cut off by a ruckus laugh somewhere behind Law, which he presumed originated from one of the tables in the pub. "Gyahahahahaha," Law stiffened. He knew that laugh and he wasn't exactly happy to hear it here. "Well if it isn't Trafalgar Law!" the man chuckled, "I never expected to see you here. But then you always seem to turn up in the most unexpected places. Nosy as usual I see. Though I am glad to see you taking interest in an object that's actually worth something! At least the Governor of this place has some idea of what true power is! Gyahahahahaha."

"Bellamy-ya." Law acknowledged rising from his seat and striding across the room to stand in front of Bellamy's table. Penguin and Shachi followed. It was one of Law's longest kept secrets that they had once served the same captain, or that Law had a long held grudge against said captain. But one didn't sail around North Blue as much as Law had without eventually running into Bellamy the Hyena.

Bellamy was a tall tanned man, with unkempt blond hair, a ready smile, and an obnoxious laugh, the laugh had earned him the monicure "Hyena". He was seated next to a rather large man with pale blue hair Law had never met, though he noted that he had Doflamingo's Jolly Roger tattooed on his bare chest. The sight of the sigul brought back painful memories which Law quickly repressed. The stranger had his arm around a laughing blonde woman. And for a moment Law just looked at her, wondering how any woman of good sense could stand the company of anyone Bellamy deemed worthy of his crew. Law felt little more than contempt for the lot of them.

Bellamy noticed where Law's glance had gone and began laughing again. "What, Trafalgar, Don't tell me you started your own crew and don't have a single woman in it? I guarantee they come in quite handy!"

Law kept his own face blank though he could hear a rustle behind him that indicated one of his men had stiffened, probably Penguin. "I assure you," Law stated bluntly, "that I will never take on a crewmember that can't hold their own in a pinch." And yes he truly believed every member on his crew was capable of doing what needed to be done, even Mouse who, though weak, had demonstrated a tremendous will and learning spirit. Law had no doubt the boy would find a way should the need arise. He was less certain about the woman who seemed to be gazing at her crewmate fondly. She turned and glared at him.

"Lily, Sarkies, this is Trafalgar Law, the Surgeon of Death." Bellamy chuckled ignoring the jab at his crew's apparent capability. "Pull up a chair, old friend, I want to talk. It seems someone has made a name for himself." And as Law did reach for the nearest chair, stealing it from another table, Bellamy pulled some flyers from a newspaper at his elbow and slapped a wanted poster down in front of Law.

"I'm impressed. A few months ago you were just a faceless title and a small time bounty, but now it seems the government considers you an actual threat." Law studied the poster in front of him for a moment. The photograph was the same. Hat pulled low over his eyes, left hand held up completely obscuring the rest of his features the letters D.E.A.T.H. easily legible in the tattoo across his fingers. But now the words "Surgeon of Death" were in smaller letters above his actual name and beneath that 28,000,000. Law smirked and leaned back in his seat, picking up the poster and holding it up over his shoulder.

"What do you think, Shachi? Maybe next time I'll let them get a decent photo of my face?"

Shachi let out a low whistle as he reached across his captain's shoulder and snagged the poster before taking a step back. "Whoa, 20,000,000 in one go, assuming this was printed . . ." Law watched as he squinted looking at some very fine print near the bottom "Yep, right after Krocylea. We'll have to keep an eye out for a more recent printing in the next week or so."

Sarkies's mouth compressed into a thin line, "Krocylea was you?" he murmured not entirely hiding his shock. Law knew what the problem was. Neither he nor his men looked quite capable of the destruction that had been wrought on that island.

Bellamy laughed. "What is it the Doflamingo always tells me? "a new era of great ones is coming". If things keep on as they are perhaps you and I will be a part of that swell. I'm worth a pretty penny now myself. You might wanna inform that Captain Beckett of yours that Our Warlord has started keeping an eye on him though. "

Law only smiled politely as the man chuckled shifting through the newspaper again. "I sail under my own flag now."

"Oh really?" Bellamy leered. "What do you say, Trafalgar, next round on me? What's the point of being old comrades if we don't sit down and reminisce once and awhile? You won't get another chance. In a few hours my crew's headed for Reverse Mountain and the Grand Line!"

Again Law only nodded politely as Bellamy signaled for the proprietor, who seemed very nervous in approaching the group, and ordered another round of drinks before handing Law two more wanted posters. "Figured you'd want to see these as well," the man laughed and Law's eyebrow rose as he looked at what he held in his hand. This time the pictures showed Penguin and Shachi and in each picture Law's Jolly Roger was painted on a building in the background. They'd been taken on Reis then. Yes, Law thought he had seen the flash of a camera, though he had ignored it at the time. Without saying a word he handed the posters back to the men in question. They had all known those posters were coming, but Law was secretly pleased at how well his men had done in their first bounty gain.

"Ha ha, looks like we pulled a Drake after all," Shachi chuckled, "Stole a ship and everything, though in our case I believed it was managed without any actual fatalities."

"Wait a minute," Penguin grumped, "How come yours is 8,000,000 and I've only got 5,000,000. I'm the one that shot a Rear Admiral."

"Yes but they don't actually know who fired that shot." Shachi countered.

"But still," Penguin continued, "We betrayed the marines, stole Vegapunk's submarine prototype-"

"Which was largely planned by Christian-"

"Not to mention all the information we know from working at G-3, I expected it to be higher."

Law watched in amusement as Shachi frowned at the other man. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Bellamy and Sarkies seemed fairly interested in the answer as well. "Because they're hoping we'll settle down and disappear." Shachi grumbled his eyes scanning all the faces that were now focused on him. "If we have to run too much or too long we might just sell any information we have."

"Would you really?" Bellamy asked leaning forward slightly his suddenly hungry grin nearly splitting his face in two.

"If I knew for sure what it is I'm supposed to know that's so valuable, yes, I would." Shachi stated pointedly. "Though my captain would, of course, have first rights to that information." Bellamy nodded satisfied, and sat back in his chair. It was Penguin's turn to frown. It was obvious to Law that while Shachi might have developed some cynicism about the Marines, Penguin never had. In fact from things Law had seen from the man it seemed to him that Penguin was still attempting to hold onto what most would label the ideal marine code of honor. That was fine with Law. It made Penguin predictable. Even if he did something rash, as he had in the past, Law would at least know why, and on some level he'd always be able to anticipate it.

Bellamy waved the two men to grab chairs of their own and the next twenty minutes flew by in a blink of an eye, though Bellamy did most of the talking and the drink buying. Law learned much in that short time. Bellamy had formed his own crew as well, though he still flew Doflamingo's flag in addition to his own, and he had prospects in the Grand Line, which by his own estimation would make him a very rich and powerful man that his idol could be proud of. By Law's estimation Bellamy was too over confident by half. Law, however, neglected to say so. Bellamy had always annoyed him and Law was under no obligation to help the other man succeed. In fact it might actually help Law's own plans if the other man failed. At this point anything that either inconvenienced or even just annoyed Doflamingo was welcome in his book.

Soon enough Bellamy was pushing back his chair and rising from the table motioning Sarkies and Lily, the blond woman who so far hadn't said a word, to follow him. "I'll see you around, Trafalgar, or maybe I won't. You'll have to survive to find me on the Grand Line after all! Gyahahahahahaha!" And with that all three of them had exited the Dog's Den.

As Bellamy left the proprietor approached the table his eyes wide in astonishment obviously impressed with Law and his men. "In the week that he's been frequenting my establishment I have never seen anybody speak to him for so long without being beaten, mocked or worse. I'm impressed, you were able to stand up to Bellamy-san, Mr., He treated you like an equal!"

"It cannot be called "standing up" when you harbor neither fear nor respect for the person in question," Law replied dryly. "When that is the case it becomes nothing more or less than a simple conversation." Law watched as the man nodded in understanding, and was then pleasantly surprised when they were each brought a bowl of stew and another drink on the house.

"There is not a single speck of damage to my establishment this time around," the man explained taking a seat and joining them at the table, "therefore you three have actually saved me money and this is the best I can do to thank you." The man looked at the table for a moment and then sighed. "Earlier you wanted to know about the festival, Not knowing about the festival you must not know about the history of this island and the way things are either."

"I've heard stories," Law acknowledged, "but they are extraordinarily lacking in specifics."

The proprietor nodded, "what you need to know is this. When he first became governor some thirty years ago the currency in Port Rose was worth about the same amount as it was elsewhere in the world. Jaami -sama implemented a number of changes, including managing to create and maintain a number of monopolies in the businesses here on the island. Prices rose, commodities that were once easy to come by grew dear, and out here this close to the Grand Line there was no way to guarantee which merchants would be passing through. Because he could set the prices with no checks in place Jaami-sama was able to freely manipulate the market. Companies tried to raise wages to compensate, but the best anyone was able to achieve was keeping the island's inhabitant at a level where they could continue to make rent and buy food. It almost aggravated the problem because if we hadn't been able to survive we might have rebelled, or found a way to leave the island. As it is we've grown complacent."

"I suppose you want someone to do something about it?" Penguin muttered, but Shachi had apparently been anticipating such a remark.

"What is it with you and jumping into situations that don't concern you? It's like you're looking for a fight!"

"It's just difficult to see a situation like this where nobody does anything to change it. Perhaps the government should be told, get involved."

"The government knows," Law replied folding his hands on the table in front of him. "They turn a blind eye due to the massive bribe the governor gives them."

"And how do you know that!" Penguin asked him looking at him in shock."

"About a year and a half ago I was serving as a doctor aboard the pirate ship Polaris, third in Beckett's armada. While on board we were ordered to attack a marine ship named the Golden Coy and take her captain hostage. We did as we were ordered, sinking the ship and it's men in the process, but her captain survived. He told us much before we handed him over to one of Beckett's more experienced inquisitors, including that he had been taking bribes from Port Rose to keep other Marines away from the city."

Penguin looked at him in wide-eyed astonishment. "I don't believe it."

Shachi only frowned draining the last of the beer from his glass, "Now do you understand why I wanted out?"

-:-:-:-

Bepo was frustrated. It hadn't taken any of them long to realized that even if they did find a log pose they'd never be able to afford it. But what Bepo was really frustrated about was the fact that Mouse insisted on looking in every shop in every corner of the city that even seemed promising. Did humans really enjoy pointless searches this much? Bepo on several occasions had attempted to convince the boy to give it up, but Mouse only told him not to complain and Bepo felt the need to apologize, repeatedly. Still, he didn't like the fact that now even the cub seemed to think he could order Bepo around. Mouse had grown progressively more outspoken since they had started sailing with Law, and while that was generally a good thing, the kid would hardly make eye contact with anyone beforehand, Bepo did feel like since he was the one who had known Law the longest he should get some measure of respect. But no. There was no respect for his nose, no respect for his sense of direction and now he had wasted hours walking around a city crammed full of humans looking for something that might as well not have existed so far out of their price range was every pose they found.

"I can always ah, palm one," Verne offered long after the sun crossed its noon peek and they had stepped out of the twentieth shop."

"No," Mouse snapped, "absolutely not. Penguin-aniki would have my hide."

"Penguin might," Verne answered back, "But I guarantee you that the Captain would consider it a viable option."

"Well then he can give the order," Mouse grumbled sticking his nose in the air.

"If we're waiting on orders can't we go back to the ship?" Bepo asked no one in particular. Both men stopped.

"Yeah, Bepo's right," Verne sighed, "if we continue on like this the only thing we'll manage is to waste even more daylight. Let's go back." Mouse started to argue again but Verne grabbed the kid's shoulder and steered him around the other direction, shoving him gently back towards a sign that pointed to the south docks. "Come on, kid, your tat's about ready for a fresh coat of ink and I might as well do it tonight as not. The Captain asked about a touch up and a new design as well, and If I'm going to be doing both I might as well be prepped for it, and that is a better use of my time than wandering around endlessly." Mouse smelled annoyed, but he followed along with Verne and Bepo anyway.

When they reached the sub Law, Penguin, and Shachi were already there. It wasn't long before they had managed to round up the whole crew and gather around a table in the mess. Nobody was pleased to hear about the way things were on the island, but several of the crew had expected such and to Bepo smelled resigned.

"So what are we going to do," Mouse asked looking at the floor, "if we can't buy one? I know Verne was talking about stealing a pose but we can't do that."

"Stealing," Law answered leaning forward across the table to look the kid in the eye, "is exactly what we're going to do. And we're not going to steal just any pose either."

"The pose from the governor's collection," Shachi supplied.

"The pose from the Governor's collection," Law repeated with a smile.

"I - I don't understand," Albert frowned, "from what you've told me that one's got the highest security on the entire island. Why not just take something from a shop or cart or something?"

"If we're going to scheme and steal our way through this world we might as well be honest about it." Law replied to the question.

"Besides a theft of an item of that great a value might just force the investigation needed to turn the island around." Penguin added in.

"Penguin-aniki?" Mouse squeaked.

"Personally I'm just in a mood to piss off the authorities." Law muttered, "No we're going to steal this thing and we're going to do it properly. And in such a way that no one will ever doubt who the culprit is." He grinned at them enjoying the sudden awe and respect he saw on their faces, though usually he wasn't the type that liked to be fawned over. "And just to make sure it truly is a group effort I'm going to let you lot plan the heist."

The mood in the room changed in an instant. The Heart Pirates looked at each other and then began talking all at once.

"What about the captain's room ability?"

"You're right we just need to be close enough."

"Wait a moment wait a moment, how's he going to get in?"

"The Exhibition hall will be open to the public for the next five days."

"If he swapped out a rock or something-"

"Won't there be guards?" and so the chatter continued. Law smiled and settled in saying absolutely nothing. He wanted to see what his crew would do, get a handle on how their minds worked. So for it had been very entertaining.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on!" Shachi finally shouted above the din causing the room to fall silent and everybody to look at him. "Listen, it's all well and good to assume the Captain can just switch the object out for a rock or something and walk away, but we've all forgotten several very important factors here. One, while the exhibition hall will be open to the public during the day, not only will security be increased during that time but there will be a large number of the civilian population present that could not only be in the way but potentially get hurt. I'm sure you all agree that we are not here to hurt civilians. Two, the exhibition hall is located at the top of the tower. The captain is going to have to be physically in the building because as far as I know none of us can make him fly."

"Three," Law added in making his crew jump at the sound of his voice. "I have to know exactly where an object is, and I have yet to switch something when I can't see it."

"I suggest we use the open exhibition to survey the tower and then strike at night." Shachi continued.

"Why at night?" Albert asked.

"Because the security will be the same but there won't be any non essential people around to get in the way," Verne answered for him. "I also suggest we strike on the fourth day. Security will always be a bit more tense and trigger happy early in a showing and on the last day, but the middle should be a tab bit more relaxed."

"That gives us three days of surveillance." Shachi nodded. "If we have different people go each day we shouldn't draw too much attention."

"We should look for things like pressure plates, video den den, alarm systems, see if we can figure out the guard postings and watch changes, if we need security passes, map out multiple escape routes, and have the sub ready to go by then so we can run in a hurry." Verne continued.

"And if we do need a security pass?" Law asked.

"Depending on the type somebody needs to either lift one, or I need to see if I can get close enough to get a look good enough that I can later duplicate it." Verne suddenly grinned, "I did bring more than just personal items and tat gear with me you know."


	20. The Heart Pirates Just Follow the Plan

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who for your feedback!

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty**

 **In which the Heart Pirates Just Follow the Plan**

Time passed in a flurry of activity, planning, altering for the unexpected, obtaining resources with as little cost as possible, and attempting to make or steal what they could not afford. Now Law stood in front of the Governor's palace, under a colonnade, toting a duffle bag and his nodachi hidden in a black trash bag, and stared at the front door with a sigh. Kirro, the yellow baby den den mushi, was tucked against his shoulder under the collar of the custodial jumpsuit he was wearing, radioing information from Shachi who had stayed at the sub with the rest of the crew ready to flee at a moment's notice. This whole thing had gotten far out of proportion and rather than try to memorize his crew's plan Law had decided it would be far easier just to have them talk him through it as they went.

"All right, duck behind the first column on your right and wait for the watch change. It's just out of sight of both the surveillance Den Den and the guards so it should be safe to sit still there." It was the dead of night, just before 12am during the darkest hour. The time when most humans would be in the deepest stage of their REM cycle, and those just coming on watch would be the least aware.

"All right," Shachi murmured a short time later, whispering even though the volume on the Den den had been turned to the lowest point possible where Law could still hear it. "Mr. Red hair and the man with the cross tattooed on his cheek should be trading places any minute now. They'll walk maybe five paces from the door, Cross will ask red hair about the wife and kids, they'll spend two or three minutes talking. During that time you should be able to skirt the wall and get inside." Law waited, and then cursed.

"He's not here."

"What?" Shachi asked suddenly sounding alarmed.

"Cross, he's not here, it's a young man with glasses and short spiky black hair."

"Bert?" Red hair asked nonchalantly as he walked forward to meet his replacement, "where's Ernie?"

"He's got a stomach bug, I'm, here to take his place for the night."

"You ever work front door before?"

"Not yet, but I . . . what was that?" As Law tossed a pebble into the trash cans hidden in an alley across the way both men turned suddenly staring off to the left searching out the source of the racket, but Law had already slipped around the column and skirted the wall to the front door, where he very carefully swiped a card Verne had managed to lift earlier that week from one of the custodial staff. The door beeped once and clicked open. Law stepped inside and ducked to the side of the main window, leaning against the wall as he heard the guards come back.

"What do think? A stray cat?"

"Probably. No point in worrying over it now. I'll stay for awhile and talk you through the procedural stuff before I head back to the wife, but if anything goes wrong or seems out of place –"

"I know, I know I'll call you."

"Captain?" Shachi's voice echoed from the Den den mushi, "the guy with the glasses-"

"Never mind him I'm in already. " Law cut him off.

There was a pause on the other end and then Shachi was again giving him directions. "Ok at the end of the hallway there should be a lift shaft. Keep your head down so that all the video den den pick up is the maintenance cap. Once you reach the lift, swipe the card and enter the moment there's enough room to do so. Use the trap door in the lift and climb up on its roof. Remember you have to do it as quickly as possible or-"

"I'll get locked in I know," Law murmured beginning the long walk down the hallway, the large black trash bag over one shoulder. He did not want to know at the moment how they had discovered the lift locked down the moment it started moving. The lift had been a somewhat pleasant surprised his men had found upon their surveillance of the ancient palace. Learning that it and all the security systems within had been designed by Vegapunk, had not.

He kept going down the hallway, keeping the bill of his maintenance cap tipped down to hide his face from the cameras, walking as if he had every right to be there, and feeling relieved that the lift had not been installed with a video den den the way all the hallways had. He reached the elevator, swiped the card. The lights on the door lit up and Law leapt inside the moment it was open enough for him to fit. The elevator itself would not move without another card swipe, and it would not open for any floor higher than the third level without a security code. Law however was not interested in the keypad or the code, he was interested in the hatch in the ceiling of the lift. Taking his nodachi from the trash bag he raised it and hit the clip that kept the hatch closed. Pushing the hatch open he tossed the trash bag with its hidden contents through and then jumped managing to grab the edge a pull himself up, just as the elevator door began to close behind him. Swinging around he slammed the hatch closed just as he heard the elevator ding below. A lock clicked into place. Law vaguely wondered what would have happened had the hatch not been closed when the lock clicked. He decided he didn't want to know. It was an ingenious innovation on Vegapunk's part. The elevator would remain locked until it reached a destination or a security code was entered. Any non-personnel caught inside would be trapped to await the arrival of the authorities. Law, of course, assumed there was some sort of safety release feature for the event of a fire, but that was not something he was willing to just test out.

The elevator shaft was pitch black. The only light came from a series of interior keypads that had been installed, presumably for security purposes, on the inside of the doors. Law could barely make out the light from their control panels fading into darkness as he looked up. The nearest was a good story above him, the one on his floor being blocked by the elevator.

Shuffling around in the dark Law found the trash bag, ripped open the plastic to get at the duffle bag within, and began feeling his way around the pockets until he found a small headlamp. Dropping his maintenance cap on top of the duffle he switched on the headlamp and settled it on his head just as Shachi spoke again. "Do you see the ladder?"

Law looked to his right, the light from the lamp illuminating the first few feet of rungs, as he began unbuttoning the maintenance jumpsuit, "Yeah, I see the ladder," he answered stripping off the jumpsuit to reveal a security uniform beneath. "I'm not going to ask which one of you got stuck in the elevator shaft to discover that little gem."

"Mouse." Shachi answered. Law just shook his head ruefully and he folded the jumpsuit, set the cap beside it, made sure the maintenance ID was stowed safely in the jumpsuit pocket, and adjusted the straps on the duffle so it could be worn like a backpack, before he strapped Kikoku's sheath to the bag's front and began to climb. It was a very dark and silent climb. Shachi said nothing as Law worked his way up the ladder one hand and foot at a time. The pack began to drag at his shoulders and Law began to wonder what would happen he if fell. It was a gloomy thought and he shook it from his head. What seemed like hours later, but was in reality was closer to 45 minutes, he reached the very last door at the very highest point of the lift shaft and was able to inform Shachi he was in position.

"All right, on the inside of the door there should be a security keypad. I think it was some sort of security precaution Vegapunk implemented in case his own men got locked in there. Do you see it?"

"Yeah," Law sighed, "I see it." The keypad in question was located on the opposite side of the door. What imbecile had chosen to put it there, Law didn't know. The rest had all been next to the ladder. But as Law trained his lamp around the shaft he understood. Along the far edge of the shaft was what appeared to be an extra two feet built out into the main building which looked like it was meant to allow access to the mechanisms that controlled the lift.

"Good," Shachi continued obviously having no idea Law was facing any difficulty whatsoever. "Take the security ID we confiscated from our . . . accomplice. After swiping it you have exactly thirty seconds to enter to following code. 2, 2, 4, 2, 3, 8, 9." Law sighed and cautiously stepped off the ladder. There was just enough of a lip on the inside of the door that he had a decent foothold, however moving along that edge required him to both keep his weight forward and flatten out as much as possible to counterbalance the pack hanging off his shoulders. If anyone had been able to see the shuffling slide he was doing to get across the gap, Law thought he must look like he was trying to waltz with the door.

"Captain, you through?" Shachi's questioning voice echoed in the shaft from the baby Den den who remarkably enough seemed to completely calm for an animal that was holding tightly to Law's shoulder as he shuffled across a five inch shelf with a solid wall on one side and on the other a thousand foot drop.

"Almost," Law grunted as he reached the edge and felt around for the keypad. Leaning back to look at what he was doing would not be a good idea at this point. There, there it was. And he could feel the number pad. Fortunately it seemed oriented in the standard three across three down format. He only hoped the keys were where he thought they were. "What was that code again?"

"2, 2, 4, 2, 3, 8, 9." Reaching for his back pocket Law carefully pulled out the security ID, flipped it around in his hand so it was facing what he hoped was the right way, swiped it, reached for the keys, and typed in the code by the feel of the key placement alone. The doors whooshed open and because Law had been leaning against them to keep his weight forward, he nearly fell flat of his face. Fortunately there was no one there to see.

"I'm in."

"Ok, just past the lift the hallway will fork. You want the hall on the right, and now here comes the hard part." Law suppressed groan at those words. "I hope you're up to acting tonight, Captain. Up ahead is a live checkpoint."

"As long as I don't have to mimic Penguin's false Saguaro island accent I'll be fine." Law answered. There was a snigger on the other end of the line.

"When you get there tell them you are Jackson? Jackson's relief. The man who was supposed to be there has been unavoidably detained." There was a raucous laugh in the background that Law believed belonged to Verne. Law didn't ask, he didn't want to know, but he had the sudden feeling that he knew exactly where his men had gotten a security badge and uniform. "Now the surveillance room and the guard stations switch positions about a half hour off of each other to avoid shift gaps where people like us might try to sneak in. You're only about fifteen minutes late. Use that."

"Please tell me you didn't just have me climb all that way just to avoid a shift gap!" Law grumbled.

"Sorry, captain, but it really was the easiest way in. There are about a dozen different security stops, doors, and alarm codes by the regular route."

"All right," Law grumbled, "and after I pass the guards?"

"Once you're through head down the hallway, take your first right, and open the first door you reach. That'll be the video surveillance room. Once there replace the Jackson fellow who should be the man on duty. "

"Going silent," Law murmured as he reached up and hit the mute button the den den's receiver before adjusting his collar to insure that Kiiro was safely hidden. To its credit the little snail ducked its head even more as Law strolled down the hallway towards the checkpoint.

There were two men standing at the far end fortunately just around a corner where they wouldn't have been able to see Law's clumsy entrance. He approached them with a smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to be so late, but I didn't get the call to come in until about ten minutes ago. I'm Jackson's replacement tonight." And he held up the badge expertly hiding the actual name on the card with his fingers.

"We wondered what was going on." One of them growled at the other scratched his head. "Mathews sick or something?"

"Yeah," Law replied with an innocent smile. "There's some sort of stomach bug going around. Ernie's got it too, or at least that's what Bert said when I came in this evening."

"What's in the duffle bag?" the second man asked sharply.

"Snacks, a pack of cards," Law shrugged. "Us day shift guys don't usually see things this slow. I've gotta have something to do while I watch a lot of monitors full of nothing. Here," and from one of the bag's pockets Law pulled a pack of chips and handed it over. "No use it keeping it all to myself right?" With an appreciative grin they waved him past. And Shachi had said that was going to be the hard part.

Getting to the surveillance room was a bit more difficult, Law mused as he stood at the door a few minutes later looking at yet another keypad lock. Some part of him felt sure that the code on this door would be different from the one for the elevator. He tried it just to be sure and received a warning buzz for his efforts. Hurriedly he thought back to what he had heard while his men had been planning this thing, hit upon an idea, and reaching out a hand knocked. The door was opened in an instant and a very tired looking middle-aged man blinked out at him.

"Sorry, Sorry," Law grinned at him ignoring the man's glare and stepping inside. "Mathews called in sick, I got the memo late, and then someone forgot to give me the temp code for the night shift. I know it's supposed to be a precaution against stolen or lost codes, but on days like this."

"You're telling me - The code's 2, 2, 4, 2, 2, 7, 6, and I'm out of here." And the middle-aged man didn't give Law a second look as he grabbed his jacket and left the office. Law smiled as he closed the door behind him and sank into a chair turning the volume on Kiiro's receiver back on.

"All right, now what?"

"Wait for him to leave the building." Law watched the monitors and when he saw Jackson exit he informed Shachi. "Ok, from where you are now should be able to disable all the locks on the doors for about one minute and thirty seconds. I'm going to put Verne on and he's going to walk you through it."

"Verne?" Law questioned briefly considering the wisdom of that choice.

"Well if he can accidentally disable the sub's communication systems he can intentionally disable a door lock." Shachi grumbled and this time it was Law's turn to chuckle. A minute later Verne was on the line instructing him through a procedure to get the locks to reset.

"The moment the circuit overloads you should hear the door click. Run to the end of the hallway to the door that leads to the penthouse. Remember you've got a minute thirty to open the door or you'll have to start all over again." Feeling fortunate that he hadn't bothered to set down his pack, and that he always had been a quick runner, Law did as he was told. But even with his speed he barely made it in time. The hallway was long, very long as it ran nearly the length of the entire building. He sighed with relief as he managed to open the door just bare seconds before the locks clicked back into place.

"You all right?" Shachi's voice asked with a note of concern as he took the den den back from Verne.

"Yeah," Law doubled over panting wondering if he dared yell at the men for not finding a way that could have bought him a bit more time. "Yeah I'm good."

"Ok, from there you should see a stairway that leads up to the floor above. That goes to the Penthouse. You're going to want the room in the farthest northeast corner. I'm sorry, but no one managed to get in there you'll have to find it on your own." Law straightened back to his feet and slowly made his way around a corner and up the stairs. The penthouse was dark, but there was enough glass windows and a nearly full moon so Law easily had enough light to see by as he crept through a large spacious living room towards the back which he knew housed several bedrooms. Carefully and quietly he made his way towards the one on the east corner and nearly cursed aloud when he inched open the door. This wasn't just anyone's bedchamber, and it wasn't empty. Directly in front of him was a large canopy bed with the Governor of Port Rose sound asleep in the middle. Biting his lip he set his pack down and as quietly as possible dug through the pockets for his medical case. It was fortunate he at least, had planned for this.

Pulling a vial out of the medical case he also found and removed a fresh needle and syringe from their sterile packaging and plunged the needle into the bottle. It would be so easy, Law thought absently, to up the dosage of the drug just enough so that the inhabitants of Port Rose would be looking for a new governor in the morning. But that would be counterintuitive to his plan. He needed the governor angry with him and for that he needed to man alive. So Law filled the needle with just enough to ensure the Governor would have a long uninterrupted sleep for the next several hours.

Administering the drug was a bit more difficult than he anticipated. The Governor, Jaami Toller, was an elderly man who thrashed in his sleep, and Law was beginning to think that the process of holding him down long enough to dose him would, in fact, wake the man up. Suddenly Toller stopped and sighed in his sleep, completely still. Law realized that he had absentmindedly began to hum the tune Penguin had been playing on his harmonica the night before. A lullaby. Unintentional as the humming was it seemed to work and so Law kept it up positioning the man's wrist for the shot, finding a vein, and administering the drug. Toller's eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, but there was already enough of the drug in his system to keep him from crying out, and seconds later his eyelids fell closed and the man once more dropped off into sleep.

Law grinned as he tossed the used syringe onto the top of the dresser where somebody could find it in the morning, and returned to the bag full of gear he had left on the floor by the door. Toller had been awake just long enough to see his face, hopefully he would remember. "All right I'm in the northeast corner, what now?" he asked his men.

"Go to the corner of the outside wall and walk south about fifteen feet." Law did as he was told ending up about two feet on the near side of the governor's bed. "Then walk about twelve feet west." Law was now almost in a direct diagonal from the bed's corner. "You're going to want to cut through exactly where you're standing."

Law took a step back removed a bit of chalk from his back pocket and drew an X on the floor. From there he went and grabbed the bag full of gear and brought it over within easy reach before holding out a hand and stating one word. "Room." The room he created was roughly twenty feet in diameter easily enough to encompass the space he needed both above and below the floor he was standing on, but not so large as to expand out into a hallway and give what he was doing away. He reached for Kikoku and unsheathed the blade. One of the first things he had ever learned to do upon first picking up the sword was to use it in conjunction with his Devil Fruit powers, and in this case his task was relatively easy. Sliding his sword through the floor he began to cut a hole easily large enough for a single man to fit through. "Tact," He murmured raising a finger. The piece of flooring floated up and with one hand Law reached out and pushed the whole thing out to the side so that when he released the room not so much as a splinter would fall onto the pressure plated floor of the room below. Though for the time being he kept the room in place and after rummaging through the Duffle Bag pulled out the heaviest of the items he had been carrying around.

A collapsible tripod created by Albert and a coil of rope the two items together would allow him to lower himself into the room below and switch out the Pose for a very carefully weighted and designed block of wood that Pops had carved specifically for this mission, without having to set foot on the floor below. The room below was a true mastery of security measures. The Log pose's pedestal itself was weight sensitive so that that if anything not specifically matching the Log Pose was set there an alarm would trigger. The floor tiles, turned off for daytime visitors, was so pressure sensitive even a pebble could set off the alarms. There were sets of lasers mounted into the walls that swept the room without any truly definable pattern, and in true Vegapunk fashion, they would shoot down anything that moved that was even slightly larger than a housefly. Law mentally cursed the genius scientist for ever desiring to bring that fictional creation to life. The beams had made the planning stages incredibly difficult for the Heart Pirates and was now the sole reason Law was about to suspend himself from the ceiling instead of switching things from the doorway. Not because of the sweeping lasers, but because of a second type that had been focused to rest on the desired Log Pose itself. An action laser as Albert had called it, after the youth had devoured all the literature about recent scientific advancements he could get his hands on, the beams in question were posed to rest on all four sides of the Log pose and set to trigger an alarm if they connected with each other. In other words if the switch out wasn't perfect and the beams collided for even a split second all the planning would have been pointless.

"Once the tripod's set up and you're strapped in you're going to have to swing down and put the panels in place. Directly above the Log Pose's pedestal should be out of the path of the lasers but be careful all the same," Shachi instructed. Law ignored him. He knew what to do from here on out.

Pulling a utility harness from the pack, he made sure every nonessential item was put away, the things he needed were securely held in their correct pockets and pouches, and then began feeding the rope from the suspension tripod through the safety latches. Albert had made the harness as well and Law had to admit it was surprisingly comfortable as he strapped himself in. Making sure that Kiiro was safely buttoned inside his jacket pocket, though the little snail insisted on sticking its eye stocks out, Law sat on the edge of the hole and then slowly began to lower himself down. "Here we go," He muttered to no one in particular before locking the tension on the rope and flipping upside down.

From a pocket attached to the harness, designed to be accessed while he was upside down, Law withdrew a panel. And then, affixing it to a base very carefully, slowly slid it into place on the log Pose's pedestal so it was blocking one of the action lasers from reaching the Log Pose. Three more panels blocked off the other three lasers Law taking his time with each one. When everything was in place he withdrew the block of carefully weighted wood from another pouch and with his free hand made a turning gesture. There was a brief flicker and then the Log pose was in hand and the wood was sitting perfectly centered on the pedestal. Law smiled down at the Heart Pirate Jolly Roger that had been carved into its top ringed by the words "If your prices weren't so high we might've just bought one." Yes, the message was clear.

Securing the Log Pose in the pocket that had previously held the block of wood, Law flipped himself right side up and climbed back up through the hole he had made. He collapsed the tripod and put both it and the rope away, before removing the harness and securing that in the duffle bag as well.

"Captain? Did you get it?" quarried Shachi's voice now muffled due to the fact that Kiiro was still in Law's jacket pocket.

"Yeah, I've got it." Law murmured looking around, the film of his bubble giving everything outside of it a slightly blue tint. Looking down through the hole in the floor he absently noted that there were several rare and valuable objects just sitting there within his bubble just waiting for him to take them. And then there was the fact that his crew's escape plan called for him to return to the surveillance office and finish out the shift like nothing had happened. A plan that carried its own risks.

"Captain?" Shachi questioned, "Are you on your way out?"

Law didn't answer. He was too busy weighing all the pros and cons of the options trying to make up his mind trying to decide what move would make the greatest impact towards the desired end goal. Coming to a decision he removed several books from a nearby shelf and set them out on the floor in front of the hole. Walking around it so that the items of the greatest value were within his visual range Law raised a hand.

"Captain?" Shachi called again, and Kiiro's eyes looked up questioningly from his pocket, "Captain can you hear me?"

Law smirked. "Shambles!"

-:-:-:-

Shachi nearly had a heart attack when he heard the word, although he had been expecting something to go wrong ever since the crew had kidnapped that guard. Currently Shachi was seated on the topmost deck, the map he had drawn spread out before him, facing the tower of history. The tower was easily visible above the lights of the city spread out before him. "Captain? Captain!" he shouted into the receiver of the little red baby Den Den Albert had named Aka.

"Relax, I've just decided to tweak the plan a little, that's all," Law's voice carried over the line. Shachi sat back heaving a sigh of relief just when the sound of alarms started blaring. Not only just over the Den Den Mushi, but he could hear the sound echoing through the city originating from the tower itself, even from where the submarine was currently docked. High above the city skyline he could see a sphere of blue envelope part of the tower just as a wall blew outward.

Words could not describe the sudden horror he felt. Cursing violently Shachi scooped up the baby den den and the map before running for the door and pounding his fist on the com button. "Guys something's gone wrong. We're leaving. Have this ship ready to move the moment the captain's on board!" Of all the things that could have gone wrong. Of all the events he had been sure to plan for, the Captain's alterations had never factored into any of it. If only he'd thought ahead a little bit more.

Two Days Earlier . . .

When Shachi had heard that the tower of history was technically part of the governor's palace he had misunderstood that the Tower jutted out of an actual palace. It would have been more accurate to say that the tower of history contained the governor's palace. Or rather that the governor's palace was really just a penthouse at the top of the Tower of History.

True the building itself was an architect's dream so intricate were the carvings up the side complete with a colonnade around the parameter and various gargoyles and statues jutting out at intervals, but It was really just a single building that seemed to combine a variety of art galleries and museum showcases with an abundance of offices and research labs in the maze that made up it's 100 floor interior. The ground floor even housed a library. Now, dressed in civilian attire, Shachi found himself standing in the middle of the street admiring the building in all its majesty.

"Whoa!" Mouse exclaimed stretching his neck back and trying to look up at the top, "I know Pops and Albert-san said it was impressive when they returned from their visit yesterday, But I didn't think it'd look like this! Do I really get to go inside, Uncle Shachi?"

"Yeah, Uncle Shachi," Verne slapped his shoulder, "do we get to go inside?"

Shachi glared at the other man, but only sighed and shrugged. "Come on then. We have a job to do," he grunted as he led the way towards the line waiting by the main door.

Albert and Pops' visit the day before had been basic recon only. The two had entered the tower played tourist and apparently wasted a great deal of time looking at all the different exhibits they could find, all the while secretly mapping out the floor plan, and asking innocent questions that allowed the two to figure out the guard shifts and how many code and locked doors there would be on an off day. Albert was a proficient at that it turned out. The Communications expert knew how to both read between the lines as well as body language. Albert may not be much in a fight without an invention of some sort in his hand, but Shachi wouldn't hesitate to put him in charge of an investigation.

Meanwhile the rest of the crew had spent their day working with Mouse on focusing his observation Haki. It seemed that in days past the kid had mostly used it to know when someone was about to hit him, but now they needed him to do something more. It had been Penguin's idea really. Figured out while Shachi was rummaging through the fridge the night before and Mouse had innocently asked him why he was looking for the umeboshi when he knew the captain hated that stuff. Penguin had nonchalantly mentioned that he was never going to have Mouse around if he ever needed to buy the kid a gift because there was no way to surprise a person who could read your mind. From there things had escalated to what if they could get Mouse close enough to the tower guards to "hear" the passcodes." So while Albert and Pops had been exploring the museums Penguin and Shachi had been trying to get Mouse to accurately guess what number they were thinking of before they had written it down. The kid was good, very good. He had even been able to tell when Penguin was about to announce it was time for he and Bepo to head out on stakeout duty where they would sit for hours doing nothing but watching the watch.

Then there was Verne and Shachi. A return of Albert and Pops would only have raised suspicions after they had spent the whole day before at the tower, so the crew had traded positions. Shachi and Verne were there because the theory was that between a former marine Master Chief and an alleged Con the two men should be able to find every security feature in the building. Shachi bit back a curse when they entered. "This has Vegapunk written all over it!" he groaned as they stepped off to the side to wait for Mouse who was peppering a guard with questions about if he ever got to do anything exciting like arrest anybody.

"You sure?" Verne murmured back, "Pops just said it was high tech, you really think Vegapunk-"

"I've been sailing in a submarine designed by the man for the past month," Shachi answered, "I think I would recognise the work by now. And if it's not Vegapunk we're better off assuming it was." Oh he was not happy about this, but it was what the captain wanted and even with the unpleasant finding they still had a chance to pull everything off.

"Well, at least there's a lift." Verne had muttered nodding his head down the hallway. "Let's start with the main attraction and work our way down." Giving a nod to Mouse the two men set off about their own tasks leaving the kid to wander about and glean information from the guards.

They stepped out of the lift at the second floor from the top, well top except for the Penthouse, but the lift didn't go any higher. There was a guide waiting at the end of the short hallway waving people down a fork to the left and towards a fight of stars. "Up the hall past the guards and you'll be at the vault," she waved cheerily at them. "Once inside please do not touch anything." There were no stray offices or locked doors this way, it was just one long, blank corridor that seemed to funnel people straight towards the vault and back. Eventually it turned towards the north and the wall became nothing but windows. Shachi paused as he looked out them.

"It'd be worth working here just for the view alone!" He whispered as he stared out the windows. He was looking down on the roofs of the city sprawled out below, people looking like ants in the streets, and the east dock full of ships. Yet he didn't let himself linger long. They had a job to do after all.

The vault was easily as impressive though not quite in the same sense as the city view. Shachi couldn't help but let out a low whistle as he stepped into the room and took in his surroundings. "Quite impressive isn't it." Spoke one of the guards from his place by the doors, "all this history in one room."

"Actually," Shachi admitted, as he walked over to hear the man and Verne made his way deeper into the vault for a look at the Log Pose, "I was admiring your security system. These are pressure sensitive floor panels right?" he stomped a foot on one of the tiles in question. "What do you do? Turn the whole thing off for the exhibit?"

"Only the motion sensitive stuff," the guard laughed, "the floor panels the lasers-"

"Lasers?" Shachi questioned.

"Something based on Admiral Kizaru's Devil fruit abilities or so I hear. At least that's what the guys who installed this stuff were telling me last year. They scope the area out for anything that moves and shoot it down. You know, like bats and things. not that we've ever had a problem, but never hurts to be safe." The man shrugged.

"Mathews!" the other guard suddenly snapped and the man in questioned winced. "I shouldn't have said all that I guess."

"No worries," Shachi shrugged, "You won't catch me repeating it. But Admiral Kizaru, whew it's been a while, but I once saw him shoot a beam through the hull of a pirate ship at five hundred yards,"

"Woah, you're a marine? You know the admiral?"

"Not really," Shachi started saying the words so they could mean anything, "but when I was a raw recruit I just happened to be stationed on a ship that he just happened to hitch a ride on. I held night watch mostly. Not my favorite, everything is dead quiet, nobody to talk to. Honestly I think the two of you got the lucky draw. You get to stand here and people watch all day. Is it always like this?"

"Nah. I mean we all take a turn on vault duty during exhibition week. I usually work night shift, actually get to go back to my regular schedule tomorrow. Usually end up stuck in the surveillance room, but I don't mind the quiet actually."

"Mathews," his partner snapped again.

"Sorry," Shachi held up his hands apologetically, "I'll go and let you actually do your job." and he wandered away, taking his time looking at things, but making a point to spiral inwards towards the Log Pose in an attempt to gauge the dimensions of the room.

"They've got action Lasers trained on the damn thing," Verne muttered at his shoulder a while later. "I've never encountered them personally, but they've been the talk of the security industry this past year and I've read enough to understand what they do in Albert's tech magazines. If the captain's switch is just a little bit off-"

"They've also got pressure plating on the floor." Shachi grumbled, "there's no getting in here from this level then. We'll have to try to come down from above."

"You mean the penthouse?"

"Uhh huh. We're going to have to try to get up there somehow."

"There shouldn't be any problems once we're in, but getting in . . ."

"Come on," Shachi grumbled, "let's go see what we can figure out." And he led the way out of the vault and back towards the elevator.

They were the only ones planning on going down at the moment with was fortunate because the moment before the doors closed the hatch in the lift room opened and both men jerked in alarm only to find themselves staring up into Mouse's face.

"What on earth-" Shachi started as Verne cursed, "how'd you end up, up there?"

"Never mind that," Mouse grumbled struggling to climb back inside the lift and looking somewhat embarrassed, "But I've been up there for a while. There's a ladder that runs through the shaft and security pads on the inside and everything. Better yet, I was up there when some guards went up to the last level, the one that supposedly has an entrance to the penthouse and all the government offices and things. I know what their pass code is!"

"You remember it?" Verne asked a suspicious smile crossing his face.

"Better yet, I wrote it down!" and Mouse held us a small notepad covered in the scraggly handwriting of someone just learning to read. One look at it and Shachi grinned widely. Mouse not only had the pass code, but name and descriptions of various guards, who had what shift, and when the watch switched. Information that in short only confirmed everything the Heart Pirates had managed to learn so far and more. "Is it all right, Uncle Shachi?" Mouse asked suddenly looking confused as if he wasn't sure he shouldn't just have been memorizing it all. "The guards just asked me if I was writing a report for school, and when I said yes they started telling me all about the history and the building and stuff, and then their thoughts said more. One started talking about how before the lift had been installed the stairs had been torture to climb. I got the idea to get inside it from him . . . and –"

"You did good, Kid," Shachi stated ruffling his hair, "you did good." Mouse beamed at him but just then Shachi heard a pop and turned to find that Verne had removed the facing of the lift's control panel.

"Awe Man," Verne whistled, "Vegapunk may have been a genius, but he also provided a back door for anyone who knows to look for it."

"What do you mean?" Shachi queried as the man began to pull and reroute wires.

"Just that anyone who's familiar with Vegapunks wiring style knows he tend to wire things together in series. How do you think I managed to accidentally over take the submarine's com system. Anyway, after fixing that little mess of mine – well come over here and look at this." Verne motioned him. Shachi did as he was told and was presently surprised to find that he did indeed recognize the pattern of the wiring. "I'll bet you anything you want that if we can get to a panel on the floor above we'll find all the door locks wired to a single resent command." Verne grinned, "especially if we can get to a panel in a control room." The lift gave a slight lurch and started moving upward the moment Verne put the panel back and typed in the code from Mouse's notebook. "Remind me to put everything back before we go back down," he cautioned, "we don't want to tip anyone off."

Shachi thought pensively for a moment as the doors opened. "A case full of sake says it'll be more difficult than you think it will," he stated as he stepped out of the lift "but if there's a control room on this floor and we can get someone into it alone we've got a good chance of this thing working.

Mouse followed Shachi out of the lift while Verne stayed behind to play with the panel wiring some more. A few paces later they reached a fork. Mouse went left stating that he could hear that there were more people down there and with his haki he could hide better, which Shachi took the right hand fork working his way cautiously down the hallways and attempting to look like an absent minded tourist who had just gotten lost.

He walked a short way, past what looked like a checkpoint and wondered briefly why it was empty, when hearing voices of three different men he flattened himself against the wall right before a corridor that led off to the right. Directly down from him after a considerable distance he could see a glass doorway leading to what he knew had to be the penthouse, but Shachi ignored it for the moment focusing instead on the voices, what they were saying, and if he could get passed them without getting caught.

"They say this kid's in East Blue, Straw Hat something or other. Took out a pirate crew made of fishman. To do that he's gotta be incredibly strong." One man was saying.

"Na," another one interrupted. "In the paper this morning there was an article about this Kid fellow in South Blue. Says he destroyed a marine war ship. If we're talking pirate rookies he's the one to watch."

This was followed by a snort from a third fellow, "Rookie pirates, you want to talk about rookie pirates we should be talking about Drake. He was a former rear admiral. With his experience chasing them he probably knows how to play pirate better than most. Rumor has it he'll be making a run on Reverse Mountain any day now."

"Davies shouldn't you be watching the monitors?" the first man grumped.

The third chuckled, "How can I watch the monitors when you two insist on coming over here and distracting me with pirate talk? I'm the one who should be asking why you're not at your posts."

"As if anyone ever makes it up here." Man number two chuckled, "Not without subjecting themselves to the stairwell, and you'd have seen that."

Shachi took the opening the comment provided and stumbled straight out into the open staggering his steps and forcing a drunken drawl. "piiirraates, le' me tell you abou' piirraates!" he grumbled. "thhaaaa Trrafalllger Laaaw felloow."

"Woah now buddy!" one of the guards exclaimed reaching down as Shachi fell directly in front of the surveillance room's door. "You're not supposed to be up here!"

"Sttaaairs aare my frreinnd!" Shachi exclaimed letting his head loll to one side. He had a full view of the room and he could see every monitor, and screen, and panel. He was relieved to find that it looked a great deal like the control room on the sub, but still, best to be safe. "Whooops!" he exclaimed staggering out of the guard's hold through the door and attempting to grab the wall for support. He instead managed to latch onto the front of a panel and rip it off the wall as he fell and sat down heavily. "Iiiiii broked it!" he muttered stupidly and two of the guards grabbed him under each arm while the third took the panel cover from him.

"Come on, buddy, you need to leave."

"Seriously how did this guy get up here?"

Shachi suppressed a smirk as they frog marched him away. He had seen exactly what he needed to see. The wiring behind that panel had been as Verne had suggested, identical to the lift, and very close to what was in their submarine. Better than that he was sure he could draw an accurate diagram of it from memory.

"There he is!" came a surprised cry in what Shachi knew to be Mouse's voice. "See mister I told you my uncle had gotten up here!" Mouse was being escorted up the other end of the passage by a very annoyed red haired guard.

"Kid says he's got a drunk Uncle wandering around up here." The man muttered, "Says they got up the stairwell.

"Well we've got the drunk uncle." One of the men supporting Shachi grinned. "he likes to talk about pirates.

"Trrraaaffalgar Laaaw," Shachi drawled. "Trafalgar Law is coming for . . . you!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the guard laughed. And he's going to make off with the entire content of our vault while he's at it too."

The other guard laughed. "Crazy pirate wouldn't make it within ten feet of this building even if he was stupid enough to dock here." He chuckled and nodded for Mouse to be released in the direction of the lift. "Come on kid, I'll dial the elevator for you and then you better get your uncle home." The guard escorted them both down the hallway to the elevator, Mouse chattering loudly about how his "uncle" had gotten dumped by his girl that morning and he had taken him to the show in hopes of detracting him. Mouse explained how Shachi had snuck in a bottle and then disappeared into a stairwell whey they were looking at the cartography exhibit on the twentieth floor. Shachi had to admit the kid was a good liar. The guard nodded politely, dialed the elevator, and shoved the two of them in the moment the doors were open, before turning around and promptly walking away.

The moment the doors closed Shachi sank down onto the floor and burst out laughing and Verne dropped back down from the roof hatch. "Oh boy that was fun," Shachi chuckled, "I haven't gotten to pull a stunt like that since . . . well never mind. Mouse, how did you know I was going to-"

"Pretend to be drunk?" the kid interrupted him, "you were close enough I could hear your voice." He grinned at them as the elevator traveled down to the regular levels, pausing just long enough to let a janitor on. Shachi didn't bat an eyelash when Verne took the opportunity to palm the guy's maintenance badge. That would get them through the front doors and up a couple levels at least. Now all they needed was a way to get a hold of a uniform. He said as much as soon as he knew it was safe only for Mouse to hand over his notebook and point at an entry on the third page.

Shachi had to laugh as he inspected Mouse's work again, the kid had even managed to figure out where the staff sent their uniforms to launder. "That should make swiping something fairly easy," he praised the boy as Verne peeked over his shoulder.

"Well if it's not we can always kidnap a guard." Verne grinned

. . . Present

And now, now he was waiting on the deck of the submarine for his Captain to arrive watching dumbfounded as globe of blue light after globe of blue light appeared and vanished leaving a wave of destruction in their wave. Turning from the door he rushed inside trying to calm his panic, make preparations to leave, and trust that his captain had everything in control. "Bepo, get the hostage back on the docks and then get to the control room. We're leaving as soon as the captain returns!"

They had done everything in their power to plan the heist down to the exact detail, even going so far as to make sure their captain had a piece of chalk in his pocket, and a bag of chips in the duffle bag in case he needed to sell the story. They had carved a replacement block to the exact shape and weight of the pose, salvaged metal so Albert could create a tripod sturdy enough to support the weight of a grown man, raided a laundresses shop for a uniform, Penguin had kidnapped a security guard on his way to work, ransacked the submarine for any tools and supplies that would potentially be needed, and half a dozen other little things that needed to be done before they even attempted a job this big.

As he ran around the submarine issuing orders, making sure everything and everyone was prepared to leave in a hurry, and generally trying to ignore the chaos he could hear raining down outside, all Shachi could think was that everything might have gone perfectly if the Captain had just followed the plan.


	21. Together With Nakama: Exit North Blue

**Title:** Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. It belongs to Eiichiro Oda. The following story is a work of fanfiction only.

 **Summery:** Law had to admit that when one considered the state of the world and that he didn't have the temperament to sit on his heels as a civilian, piracy was by far a better option than joining the marines. Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it.

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Rating:** T, If you can handle the original Manga and/or Anime (subs or Funimation dub) you've probably got nothing to worry about as I intend to write this at about the same level.

 **Pairings:** I do not intend to write any pairings at this time.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone for the awesome reviews, faves, and follows. They've been very encouraging to get.

This chapter marks the last installment to this particular fic. Never-fear though, I do have a sequel planned out! However it's not written yes so it could be up to six months before you start seeing chapters. I'll keep my Profile updated with my progress though so if you look towards the bottom and find the section titled "Seafaring Heartless: Acquiring Paradise" You should be able to track my progress on that ^_^

On a similar note, if anyone would like to request anything in particular they'd like to see in this fic, now is the time. Characters, events, devil fruit powers, someone you want to see more of- just let me know and I'll do my best to work it in!

It's been a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you've all had as much fun reading!

 **3/2/18:** UPDATE! Seafaring Heartless: Acquiring Paradise has now been posted if you would like to continue reading my version of Law's adventures.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty One**

 **Together With Nakama: Exit North Blue**

Law smirked as he leapt from an opening he'd made in a second story window and hit the ground running. It'd taken him bare seconds to switch the books for the items of the highest value in the vault, secure them in the duffle bag, and start forcing his way out. The damage he caused was obvious, but hardly irreparable, and he certainly hadn't been stupid enough to do anything structurally to the building while he was still inside it. Though he had created some very large gaping holes in several exterior walls on a number of floors. The shouts of guard and crashing of rubble was exactly what he wanted the city to hear and he smirked as he slashed things apart, But creating chaos did take time, and now he was going to have to get through the City of Port Rose knowing that the Tower of History's guards had had plenty of time call for backup.

When he reached the street he was not surprised at all to see that fallen debris from the building towering above them had blocked traffic and created panic in the civilian population. A very few civilians milled about staring up, eyes wide and mouths agape as they took in the situation. Most were in pajamas having rushed out of homes close buy to see why the alarms were blaring. He was only surprised it hadn't caused more damage, but now really wasn't the time to be standing back and admiring his handiwork. No, Law hit the ground running and for the most part he kept running. Oh there were moments where, due to the fact he was wearing a security uniform, he'd been able to slow to a walk, act like he was trying to direct the chaos, and stroll right past the people hunting him, but there had been even more times when he had rounded a corner only to find himself facing a number of very well armed men. In times like those there was no choice but to create a room, slice things apart as needed, maybe send a few things spinning through the air, and continue to force his way through the city towards the sub. At the moment he was truly grateful they had chosen to act in the dead of night.

The City of Port Rose was set up with its streets in a grid pattern, so finding his way was relatively easy despite the chaos that reigned around him, that he rained down. And as Law forced his way through he tried not to harm civilian establishments, but there wasn't always much of a option and besides it added to the general chaos and panic. Law's path of destruction had the added bonus of causing people to run getting in the way of the authorities, and while he preferred not to destroy entire buildings there were occasions when doing so was in reality the quickest way to open up a path in front of him. So whether he liked it or not, Law did what had to be done. He did his best not to harm any homes though. Men and woman in pajamas ran and hid getting further away from the fight, guards screamed insults at him, guns fired, things spun through the air within his room, and what should have been the dead of night became one of the biggest fiascos in the last twenty years of the island's history.

Eventually he reached the southern port, the submarine, and not bothering to learn if the ramp had been pulled in or not, leapt onto the lower deck from the pier. Shachi had the door to the mess open for him and Law rushed in just as he felt a lurch as the sub moved under his feet pulling away from the docks. Regaining his balance he noted that the com light was on.

"Submerge," he ordered, "as soon as you're able, submerge."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Bepo's voice floated back sounding distracted presumably because the bear-mink was busy working the controls.

Turning Law nearly winced at the glare Shachi had trained on him. "Captain what happened to the plan?" the man asked pointedly folding his arms as his sunglasses flashed in the lamplight.

"That _was_ my plan." Law answered honestly. He had known he might need to pull something like that since the beginning. He had prepared for it. Not that his men's plan hadn't been brilliant, but it always paid to have a plan B, or C, or even D.

"What? What about our plan?" Shachi's question was a legitimate one. They had worked long and hard to execute it as flawlessly as they had.

"It was taking too much time," Law answered, "and it was too clean, would have been too easy for them to cover up." He continued ignoring Shachi's frown, "I thought one of the goals, one of Penguin's goals at least, was to force an investigation. So I made a few . . . adjustments."

"Still," Shachi grumbled leading the way to the control room as the submarine began its dive, "I think you went overboard."

"Quit the belly-aching and help me get this stuff unpacked." Law answered shoving the duffle bag into the other man's arms before he could get too far ahead on the stairs. "I'm tired of lugging all this gear around." Law would admit some time later that the looks on his crew's faces when they saw the haul had been worth every bit of the trouble.

-:-:-:-

"I really don't see why you want another one, Father," a young woman's voice echoed through the column-lined hallway. Jean Bart winced and took a step back. Saint Shalulia, his master, Saint Roswald's daughter, was not known for her merciful streak. It was best not to even be seen by her, and if you must be seen be here then you must be seen doing your assigned task to perfection. At the moment Jean Bart's assigned task was moving heavy barrels of wine from the celler to the kitchens for the party the World Nobel's family would be throwing that evening. Heavy as they were Jean Bart currently had four balanced across his shoulders. But still, he knelt and bowed as they passed, the barrels never shifting their position. Neither his master or his master's daughter paid Jean Bart any attention for which he was grateful. He stayed still as they talked, making neither movement or sound, hoping that he would be taken, as any good slave was, for a simple part of the surroundings, no more noticeable than a piece of furniture.

"I know you're impressed by these rookies, the one who took out the fishman, and the one who betrayed the marines –"

"Let us not forget this Surgeon of Death fellow who practically destroyed the south side of Port Rose." His master added in. Jean Bart tried not to raise an eyebrow. Port Rose was renowned in North Blue as much for its extremely well trained personal guard as it was for its exorbitantly high prices.

"Him too, But why are you so determined to follow this news, father? They're just rookies."

"But they are rookies who someday may prove worthy enough to be added to my captain's collection –" Their voices faded as they made their way down the hallway, and Jean Bart shuddered as he rose back to his feet and continued about his work. The collar around his neck seemed suddenly to be unbearably heavy and he felt pity for the three new captains he had just heard mentioned. He prayed that all three of them would managed enough power to avoid being caught before they got close enough to the Red Line to be in any danger from the slave traders. No man, not even the worst criminal, deserved to fall into the care of the Roswald family. And any man specifically targeted by them . . . well even the thought was enough to send shivers down his spine. Jean Bart knew first hand what that was like.

He shook the thoughts from his head. Even being suspected of thinking that way could get him executed and Jean Bart had not quite given up on living. Not just yet.

-:-:-:-

"It's hot," Bepo grumbled from his place at a control panel a few feet away from where Pops was steering the submarine, three and a half days after departing Port Rose. There was a sea chart spread out in front of him completely covering a number of lights and buttons, but Bepo was no longer paying any attention to it. They were heading in the right direction, had been for several hours. All he could focus on was how uncomfortable riding the submarine made him. "Can't we go up to the surface yet?" he wined.

"Not until we're within range of Reverse Mountain." Pops answered flatly, "Captain's orders."

"I hate riding the submarine," Bepo grumbled.

"So you've told me, So you've told me, several times."

"I'm sorry." Bepo turned his head and sighed. He didn't mean to whine, not really, but he could feel the sweat sliding down his nose. He understood now why humans didn't have any fur. When they did things like this, lived in confined spaces, fur really was very bothersome. He really truly hated this. Why couldn't they sail a ship like a normal pirate crew.

"Because then we couldn't make quick escapes like the one the other night." Pops answered and Bepo realized he'd spoken the thought allowed. "You have to admit it was worth it, though," and Pops jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the platinum-plated log pose that was sitting next to the captain's chair. Bepo ignored it. As humans fascination with inanimate objects went it was a very nice item. Set between two round bases with four little flower laden vines curling around to hold it together, was a round transparent orb that contained a needle that did nothing but spin. Though the spinning had turned to shaking from side to side the closer they got to the red line. Around the lower base were carved the words "Ego transferam vos trans mare", which according to Pops read I will carry you across the sea. Pops said the language was all over a number of old sea charts he had seen during his time as a ship engineer. Verne had shrugged and said he didn't particularly care as long as the pose worked.

Perhaps the most extraordinary things about the Log Pose were the carvings both on the top and the bottom plates of the pose's base. The top plate bore what appeared to be a geographic map of some unknown Island, the bottom plate had a string of words in some language none of them had ever seen before, that spiraled from the outside edge into the middle much like the pattern on a snail's shell. Bepo didn't care. He didn't need the pose and the Captain claimed that if the carvings mattered they would find out in time. Bepo's nose twitched as he caught the scent of the man in question as the door to the control room opened and he strolled in.

"Captain . . ." Bepo started to whine, but Law only shot him a look and shook his head.

"Quit the bellyaching, Bepo. How close are we?"

"I'm sorry, "Bepo grumped as he glanced at the chart "Maybe a day out."

"A day," Law mused. "A single day . . . All right, come nightfall we can take her up and then sail on the surface in the morning." Law sighed in contentment, his scent indicating that he was pleased with their progress, and settled into the captain's chair picking up the pose and twirling it around in his hands. His scent became . . . pensive, Bepo decided. The man was trying to make his mind up about something. "If you really can't take the heat you can go sit in the refrigerator. Tell Shachi I said to let you. It shouldn't tax the batteries too much especially if we recharge them in the morning."

"Aye, aya, Captain!" Bepo cried with joy, abandoning his sea charts, bolting for the door, and racing up the stairs. Shachi wasn't in the kitchen when he arrived so Bepo opened the walk-in fridge door and flopped down in the middle of it with a contented sigh, completely ignoring the fact that his boot covered hind paws were hanging out into the kitchen. That was the way Shachi found him some minutes later when he arrived for his turn on lunch duty.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" the man growled sounding like someone was trying to strangle him.

Shachi's scent was part annoyance, part amusement, but all Bepo could manage to answer was, "Cool, so cool."

-:-:-:-

The morning air was crisp and cool when Penguin ventured out into the dawn, nearly tripping over Bepo who had insisted on sleeping on the deck after being submerged so long the days before. It was the fifth day since they had left Port Rose and he could see Reverse Mountain rising high above them in the distance. By everyone's calculations they should arrive there sometime that afternoon. Clouds covered its peak, and if he really looked Penguin could make out the strange sight of a current racing up its side, even without a telescope. There were a lot of strange things in the sea, but there was something about Reverse Mountain that took his breath away. For eons it had been the only way into the Grand Line. At least until Dr. Vegapunk appeared.

There was the sound of fluttering beside him and Penguin turned to see a News Coo landing on the rails, a rather miffed look to its eyes and carrying a week's worth of papers. Penguin smiled as he met the Coo's sharp gaze and took the papers, fishing the required sum from his boiler suit pocket. The bird flew off in a huff. Penguin sighed. He could only imagine what he would feel like if he'd spent a week searching for someone in order to do his job, the weight load he was carrying increasing everyday. Penguin didn't think the bird could be blamed for being unhappy with them.

Turning and stepping back over Bepo, Penguin carried the papers inside noticing briefly that the top paper contained a story about a coup in Vira. He started to peruse the article just in time to trip over the doorjamb and send pages flying everywhere all over the mess. Cursing slightly Penguin began picking up the spreads, trying to reorganize them into their original format just as the Captain wandered in bleary eyed and looking like he still belonged in bed. "Coffee." The man muttered and Penguin grinned to himself thinking that they really weren't that different from each other despite the fact that Law could somehow pull off the seemingly impossible. Both of them seemed to need a good strong cup of joe in the morning to get them going. Shaking his head slightly in amusement, and hoping the captain was still too much in a morning fog to see it, he began to pick up the wanted posters that had fallen out of the centerfold of one of the papers.

"Your bounty's gone up again." He laughed as he put a few flyers down on the table in front of the groggy man who had just taken a seat, "Shachi's and my own too!" Sure enough the three flyers now read 35,000,000, 15,000,000, and 10,000,000 respectively.

"I really need to let them get a new picture." Law mumbled holding the mug of his favorite brown liquid in both hands and taking a sip. "Though I have to congratulate you two now. Looks like the government is finally convinced you truly are a threat."

"It probably has more to do with the fact that we've joined your crew." Shachi mumbled wandering into the room. "We were both seen during the last job. They have no reason to doubt that we're now following you, and that alone is enough to drive up all three bounties, never mind the fact that you destroyed a quarter of a city. Did you really have to go so far overboard?" Law ignored the question and continued to sip on his coffee.

"If that's the case then Bepo should have a bounty as well." Penguin added going for his own mug. "The guard we subdued woke up a bit earlier than expected. Got a very good look at that white muzzle of his." Shachi only shrugged shifting through the rest of the posters.

"Hey, look at this kid with the Straw Hat," he exclaimed suddenly. "30,000,000 that's gotta be a record in East Blue." The poster in question featured a youth some years younger than Law with a broad and somewhat reckless grin.

"I haven't seen a bounty like that on a new rookie poster since, who, Jean Bart maybe-" Law said as he sat down his mug and reached for the paper. "But that would have been years ago, well before he disappeared. What's the kid's name?"

"Monkey D. Luffy."

"D. huh? Well that really will be a career worth watching."

"Who else is there?" Penguin asked coming back with a full mug and joining the other two. "Kid, Drake of course. Some person named Hawkins who looks like he's up here in North Blue with us. Whoa he's done a massive amount of damage to Manatee Cove!" Shachi whistled catching a look at an article in one of the papers. "We might want to avoid that one."

"By tomorrow morning it won't matter," The captain answered. Penguin looked at him and then understood.

"We reach Reverse Mountain today," he grinned.

Law smirked over his coffee, "indeed we do."

-:-:-:-

Law smirked as he leaned against the railing on the deck just opposite of the Captain's quarters. The wind ruffled through the fur of his hat and he tugged it down a bit to further cover his ears. Bepo snored from his spot on the deck behind him, Penguin played absently on the harmonica, Shachi flipped through the pages of one of Law's medical journals, and Verne had roped both Albert and Mouse into a game of poker while his father sat by and laughed as he both watched Mouse use his Haki to avoid being swindled, and kept an eye on the current. Not that it was strictly necessary. With their goal so obvious in front of them it would take a crew of idiots to go off course. Reverse Mountain loomed ahead blocking out most of the skyline, the winter mountain's temperatures in such an extreme that they forced the waters of the Four Blues uphill. Hot water always rose to the surface after all. Law would have to wake the bear-mink before they reached that treacherous current, but for now he let him sleep. There were enough dangers ahead that he wanted his men to enjoy the calm before the coming storm, and a storm there would be.

They had been sailing for a little nearly a month and a half he realized suddenly. Though fate had brought them together seemingly by accident they had risen to every challenge shoved in front of them. They had faced enemies and conquered fear. They had done what none of them ever could have managed alone, and in the process they had become Nakama.

Nakama, it was something he'd never truly expected to have. Not with a mink man, a couple of marines, a former slave, a shipbuilding CEO, a con, and the son of a communications genius. But there they were. All spread out on the deck behind him, enjoying each other's company. Law was a pirate. He had been turned into a pirate by a man he hated, adopted and trained by another he respected, grown used to having enemies on all sides expecting a knife in his back at any moment, left his family buried on an island he would probably never return too. He had never expected to find a new family in the midst of it all. Certainly not to the point of allowing them to walk him through a heist with his own life on the line. But there they were.

Bepo, the bear-mink man who had given up his best chance to return home in exchange for sailing with Law. His innocent nature belied by his massive strength. His navigational skills were unparalleled by anyone Law had ever met, and it was entirely possible that the bear-mink was correct in assuming he wouldn't need the Log Pose they had gone to such lengths to steal.

Shachi, pessimistic, plan for the worst, usually right Shachi. Law was proud to call the man one of his nakama. He was observant, intelligent, knew how to complete a task, and Shachi wasn't afraid to speak his mind. The man had an impressive basic knowledge of field medicine that Law could take advantage of, and he knew what questions to ask and when. Law knew without a doubt that he could leave Shachi in charge and everything would be taken care of, even if the man did complain the entire time. He was also one of the best engineers Law had ever met and between him and Penguin their submarine was kept in pristine shape.

Penguin, Shachi's former junior partner before both had mutinied and left the marines. Penguin, whose drive to help people seemed to get the crew in hot water constantly. That was fine with Law. He seriously doubted Penguin would ever do anything to intentionally endanger the crew and besides, so far they had profited from the opportunities brought about by the man's helpful streak. At least Penguin knew what he wanted from life. Sometimes Law wasn't sure he knew the answer himself. Penguin was a quick learner with a desire to at least understand medicine so he could help wherever needed, and with the man's mechanical understanding and he would always be a valued member of Law's crew. Not to mention that between Penguin's acting abilities and harmonica playing he was perfectly capable of keeping them all entertained. No, keeping Penguin on board was good for morale, and his moral compass was a constant check against any of his crewmates more, vengeful, urges. Including Law's

Then there was Mouse. The Heart Pirates' chore boy had come a long way since his days as a slave. It had only been a month and a half but he was willingly talking to the others now, even going to far as to argue with Bepo and Verne. The kid had obviously embraced his new, free, identity as evidenced by his insistence on the Jolly Roger tattoo, and had a great deal of potential for what he could become if properly taught. The least of which was his haki abilities. Law was extremely proud of the twerp. It was a captain's right to be proud of his people.

Pops was a well-rounded individual, and while he did suffer from a heart condition Law had found the man to be an easy and obedient patient, and also a wise and straightforward councilor. He had a head for reading between the lines, and while he was Verne's father he treated the rest of the crew as if they were family as well. Oh not as if they were children, but as if they were valued nakama whose opinion he wanted to hear. Pops was also a businessman through and through. He knew what to expect of the supply availability on the various islands as well as when it was acceptable to settle for what would seem to be an unreasonable price. Without Pops Law felt sure they would have been stuck attempting to re-supply on Port Rose instead of Reis.

Pops's son Verne was perhaps the most troublesome member of this new crew. The man was a smoker and a skirt chaser, he'd been a con making him less than trustworthy by nature, but he'd been a con with a variety of skills that had already proven useful. He saw things the others missed quite simply because he had a tendency always to look for loopholes, and while he was opinionated and tended to forget to consider other people's' opinions, he was also quick to admit he was wrong. More or less Penguin's polar opposite Law had expected some tension when the man first came aboard, but Verne's genial nature combined with Penguin's tendency to believe the best in people had actually served to create a somewhat solid comradery, as long as no one was playing a game of poker.

However it was the newest member of his crew that intrigued Law the most. Albert. The Son of one of the greatest communication's geniuses of the century, Law hadn't quite known what to expect of him. Yet in the short time they'd been sailing together Albert had proved he could live up to his father's name. Not only was he capable of inventing far more than net guns or climbing tripods on the fly, but the teen knew more about transponder snails, sonar and radio equipment, and how to read between the lines of a news story than any man Law had ever met. In fact, once it became clear he was never going to beat Verne at Poker Albert brought out the day's paper and began flipping through it, searching for anything by one of the very few authors to whom he ever gave any credibility.

"Woah, here we go," the man suddenly exclaimed. "It's another editorial by Miss. Ryan. This ought 'a be interesting!" Law watched as the men perked up looking at their newest nakama.

"Well, read it aloud then, read it aloud." Pops grinned waving a hand at the boy to go ahead. Albert cleared his throat, shook the paper to straighten its pages, and began to read.

 _The Rise of Piracy_

 _By RYAN KATHERINE_

 _World Press_

 _North Blue, It has come to this reporter's attention that in the past several months a slew of notable rookie pirates has sprang up around the world, three of these hail from here. Drake, the formidable ex Rear Admiral. Hawkins, a many of great mystery and good fortune. Law, a brilliant doctor leaving a wake of destruction. The sight of the jolly roger belonging to any one of these three is enough to inspire terror into the hearts of those who behold it, or in some rare cases, hope. Is it so wrong to hope in pirates? Dear Reader, this reporter doesn't know. All she knows is that at some point the choice may have to be made._

 _X Drake has been known to follow a course of justice both as a marine and as a pirate, what defines this justice remains unknown. Basil Hawkins chooses to leave everything to fate, letting the dice fall as they will. The truly fortunate may find themselves on his good side. Trafalgar Law wreaked havoc on Krocylea to save a handful of condemned men, but then turned around and robbed Port Rose of some of the greatest treasures in the island's history. And there are six more rookie captains besides them. Straw Hat Luffy in East Blue is directly responsible for the total destruction of a place known as Arlong Park. Capone Bege from West Blue is a man who knows exactly how to get what he wants and doesn't bother to ask either. Urouge fell from the sky creating chaos in everything he's done to date. Scratchmen Apoo, a Grand Line native, marches to the beat of his own drum, literally. You don't want that one as your enemy. Eustass Kid from South Blue, perhaps to be feared the most, has a goal and will trample over anyone who gets in his way. Then there's Jewelry Bonny, perhaps the most lovely of our new captains, but letting her pretty face fool you could be a fatal mistake._

 _But what is it these rookies have in common? Is it that they all seek the thrill of adventure? Is it that they seem more then willing to do what it takes to get what they want? Or is it that each and every one of them have Nakama they trust in to carry them through when trials are faced. Again, Dear Reader, This reporter doesn't know the answer, but she thinks this last may have a great deal to do with it._

 _It is in human nature to want to rely on somebody, especially when times are at their darkest. For a pirate this must be especially true as not only are they the enemies of the World Government, but due to the bounties that have been placed on their heads these men (and women) may be turned over at any time even by people they thought would help them. Living a life of constant distrust can't be good for any person's mental health and so, their crews, their nakama become especially important._

 _Even Kid, ruthless temperamental Captain Kid has shown that he understands the importance of this. Did he not destroy an entire town simply because the life of one of his crew had been threatened? And then there are men like Capone Bege whose crew has been heard to reference him as father, or Trafalgar Law whose crew seems to be not only willing, but capable of helping him pull off the heist of the century._

 _So one must then ask, if it is their Nakama that help these men maintain a life of piracy, what is it that causes them to seek it out? Wealth? Adventure? Fame? Power? Revenge? To face the unexpected and learn what they can do? The answers, Dear Reader, are as different as the men themselves. The world was rocked with confusion when X Drake defected, but nobody batted an eyelash at Capone Bege._

 _This reporter warned you early on to keep watch on four of these captains, Dear Reader, Now that there are six the word is already turning on its axis._

"Ha ha, I like this one, Albert!" Shachi roared putting aside the book, "if her regular articles are half as entertaining as this one I'd like to see those."

"Very insightful, very insightful," Pops murmured leaning against the wall beside the door and stroking his mustache. "She definitely understands the importance of a good crew."

"I told you it'd be a good one," Albert grinned proudly, carefully folding up the paper and setting it aside, "and look," he pointed at the mountain, "I think we're close enough now to get into the current right? I'm not a navigator by any means but –"

"Bepo, wake up, and get your furry hide ready to give us a heading!" Shachi shouted nudging the bear with his foot and the other men whooped and hollered in celebration of making the mountain.

"What? Huh? I'm sorry," Bepo murmured lazily rolling over and sleepily getting to his feet.

They were the exact picture of the crew the reporter had painted in her article, Law mused as he watched them. "Not only willing, but capable," those had been her words. She'd got it in one, Law smirked turning to gaze out at the open sea. Who knew a man's true goals? Who knew what he was capable of doing until faced with the unexpected. And this was life, so the unexpected was sure to come. Together with his nakama he felt he could face anything. Law grinned as he looked up at the mountain's outline on the horizon. The first leg of their journey was over, and a new adventure lay just over that peak.

Far to the north just past an average sized island in the sea known as North Blue a little yellow submarine positioned itself in the currents, intending to make a run over Reverse Mountain.


End file.
